Gotta Love Da Newsies!
by Rosie Malfoy
Summary: So, I wanted to write stories about each of my favorite Newsies gettin' a 'goil'. Therefore, I did! Rating for a little language, no slash involved. Review if you want, but be gentle. Dutchy's story's up! After months of waiting, I finally finished it!
1. Spot's Story

A/n: Well, I'm a newbie to da Newsies category. But I'se been reading' lotsa da stories here, an I kinda figured, since I'm a writer too, I'se gonna chuck me newsie cap in da ring too. But, uh, just make shoar that I'se gets dat back, awright? It's me favorite.  
(Normal Voice)  
The whole point of this is that I get to write stories about my favorite Newsies. The titles aren't gonna be that big, but just enough to let you know whose story it is. I may end up making a part two to some of these, if anyone likes them. Or, I may do it just because I want to. They'll probably have a lot of the same original characters weaving in and out.

Disclaimer: I'se don't own any o' da Newsies an' I'se shoar don't own da song. Dere Disney's, an' da song belongs ta Trisha Yearwood. I'se own Bianca, Lucky, Viper, an' Links.

Spot's Story

_  
"This was bound to happen  
It was just a matter of time  
This town is just too small for  
Us to really say goodbye  
You're smiling that smile that  
You get when you're nervous  
Like you don't quite know what to do  
But this is me you're talking to  
This is me you're talking to"  
Trisha Yearwood_

Bianca "Dreamer" Coppoli wasn't sure what to make of her life right now. She didn't want to leave, but if she was stuck around here, so close to him, for much longer, she would end up going insane!

'Well,' she considered, closing her dark brown eyes with a wry smile, 'At least more insane den normal.'

The black-haired girl was currently leaning against one of the posts of her bed in the girls' bunkroom at the Brooklyn Newsies' Lodging House. Downstairs, the merriment of a poker game could be heard, the boys and girls having just returned from a long day of selling their 'papes', and now willing to blow a little of their excess change.

Having sold out about an hour earlier than anyone else, Dreamer had come back and read for a little while. When she heard the others coming in, she camped out on the landing with a book and looked down every so often. That is, until he caught her eye.

He was sitting at the head of the poker table, like usual. The sandy blonde hair that slipped out of his cap was often pushed away, when they got in between his cards and the stormy, silvery-blue eyes that could make any girl in New York weak in the knees. But, then again, that was the famous Spot Conlon for you.

So, why was Dreamer so afraid of those eyes, that she would run from where she was comfortable and even think of leaving the one place she'd ever called home? The only answer was that all of Brooklyn, even all of New York, was too small to hold both the (in)famous King of Brooklyn, and the girl who'd always loved him.

She came here when she was five, in desperate need of somewhere to stay. She'd lost her parents to an influenza epidemic, one that had almost claimed her life as well. When she came running to the newsies, she had very little strength and must've looked like a ghost. The older newsies had looked after her as best they could, until she could sell with them. Oh, sure, Lucky, Viper, and Links had been great to her, like older siblings (considering that Links is a girl), but the one who really grew on her was the boy who was only a year older than her. They called him Spot. He told her that his real name was William. She wasn't sure when she fell in love with him, but it must have been sometime before she turned thirteen.

Spot had become her best friend. They were the only ones that knew each others' real names, and out of everyone, they each knew the most about the other. If someone was looking for Spot, they'd have to find Dreamer first. However, something was different now. Whenever they touched, she felt a spark of… something jump through her. She would get butterflies if he just looked at her. She even blushed around him, something that was a very rare occurrence for a girl practically raised on the streets of Brooklyn. Of course, she thought Spot was oblivious. So, imagine her surprise when, at fourteen, he asks her out on a date!

Not much to anyone's (well, except Dreamer's) surprise, he only held onto her for about two months. Still, that was pretty long for him, even then. He had already had a fair few girlfriends (girlfriends that, of course, Dreamer was stuck hearing about, as his best friend), and none of them lasted more than a couple weeks.

The oddity of the duration of their relationship didn't matter to Dreamer. What mattered was that she ended up being dumped by the one person she loved most in the world, the one person who knew her better than anything. She had even given him the key she had always worn around her neck. She liked to think it had symbolized the key to her heart. He had offered it back to her when he broke up with her, but she knew no one else could have it but him, no matter what he said. About a week later, she saw him heatedly kissing a busty blonde during the nightly poker game. It was then she really felt her heart shatter.

That had been a year before the famous strike on Pulitzer and The World.

Now, it was a year after said strike. Dreamer was sixteen, and she and Spot still hadn't gotten back on the terms they had been on before they had gone out. She got up extra early, was first on line for her papes, and finished as early as possible. She avoided him as much as she could, which was hard to do. They were still living in the same lodging house, and he ran the borough now. No one dared cross Spot.

What scared her most about those eyes of his was the look in them when he caught her eye. The look was a mixture of pity, sorrow, and… dare she even think it? Regret? She missed him. Oh Lord almighty, did she ever! None of the other girls really talked to her, and she didn't want to talk to the boys, fearing what might get back to Spot if she talked too openly with them. She had come to realize that he may not have known that she loved him. So, she consoled herself by helping along the newest young newsies, the ones who still missed there moms and still needed someone to help them through the nightmares they had of everything they lost.

When he caught her eye that October night in 1900, she didn't even know if she could stand it anymore. Her eyes began to water and she ran back into the bunkroom. She'd leaned against the bed she shared with Bits, and began wondering why she was this way. Why couldn't she just go down there and laugh with everyone else? Why did she still insist on keeping herself separate from the rest of the girls? Even as she asked herself these questions, she knew it was because she'd have to hear the gossip about who was with Spot now.

She needed some air right now, and she could hear someone coming up the stairs. So, she bolted out the window and up the fire escape a bit, to the point where she could see the sunset over the water, but she couldn't be seen from either the girls' window or the one above them, which was where the boys slept. She sat down, back against the brick wall, took a deep breath of the cool, early evening air and sighed. She couldn't do this. Not with him so close and her slowly losing her mind. Her face was cool, but her eyes were warm. She had cried over the whole situation, for the first time in a long time. She let herself continue to cry. She cried for their friendship, for her heart, for Spot, and for herself.

Then, Murphy's law kicked in.

No, the fire escape didn't fall. Instead, the person she had heard coming up the stairs crossed the room, towards the window. She tried to relax, reminding herself that, since it was probably just one of the girls, the worst that would happen would be that they would close the window. They never knew that she went up there, and it wouldn't be the first time that she would've slept on the roof.

Of course, it wasn't just one of the girls. Someone slipped out the window and turned directly towards her. The exact person she didn't want to see. The exact person she had been thinking about.

Spot Conlon, the seventeen-year-old King of Brooklyn, stood before her and looked her in the eye, as he hadn't done in two years.

"I'se t'ought ya might be out here Dreamah," He moved slightly, so that the fading light captured her face in both brilliant, pink-orange light and darkening shadows, "Ya been cryin'?" He said it as both a question and a statement, and his face showed a mild amount of surprise and a larger amount of concern.

"Ya surprised, Spot? Anyways, why dah 'ell do ya care? Ain't like ya've cared any 'a dah few times I cried these past _two yeahs!_ Why ain't 'ch ya down dere playin' pokah wit da odder boys, like usual?" Dreamer was surprised at the anger in her voice. It was like she couldn't keep control of herself. She wanted so bad to hurt him, but she knew she couldn't. Not like he'd hurt her. To do that would kill her. The hurt in his eyes when she spoke to him was pain enough to her. He approached her softly, and sat down on the stair with her.

"I didn't know ya took it like dis, Dreamah. I woulda asked before, but ya was nevah around. Ya nevah even came out heah anymore," Spot was watching her, observing her reaction to his words. She just stared out at the slowly setting sun and took in what he said. Seeing it as a chance to go on, he continued, "I was playin' ta waste time, is all. Spent some time talkin' wit Jackie boy and da walkin' mouth dey call 'David.' Jackie asked me where ya's been, since ya nevah come 'round dere wit me anymore. I told 'im about what I knew," Dreamer said nothing, but was silently mortified that Jack Kelly, the Manhattan leader that was always Spot's other best friend, now knew about how she'd reacted to Spot breaking up with her. She thought that, maybe, for a time, she'd seemed like the kind of girl you didn't tease (well, unless you were Spot, but Spot was the exception to every rule). Now, he would have every reason to tease her.

"I tol' 'im dat I wasn't too sure what was goin' on, but dat ya had stopped actin' like ya old self. Ya were nevah 'round, ya didn't talk ta da odder goils much as fah as I'd hoid, and ya didn't seem ta take much care 'a yaself anymore. 'e asked when it started, and I told 'im dat I hadn't seen ya much since I broke up wit ya, before da strike," Here, he paused again and looked back at Dreamer, who he was surprised to find looking right back at him. Her eyes, the color of a good, hot cup of black coffee, didn't reflect the anger he'd expected. Instead, he saw surprise, puzzlement, and something else staring back at him. He didn't know what it was, but he had last seen that look in her eyes the day he broke up with her. That look made his stomach do a couple flip-flops. He was about to continue, when she spoke.

"Ya act'ally noticed dat, Spot? I didn't even t'ink ya knew I wasn't around," Her voice wasn't icy and anger-laden, like before. Instead, she took on a softer tone, one lit by amazement and gentleness. It was the voice of the Dreamer he'd known before. It was the voice he could still occasionally hear, when she would come in, thinking everyone else was sleeping, and help the smaller boys get to sleep by singing to them.

"A'course I noticed, Dreamah! Ya were my best friend. I still consida' ya my best friend, if ya let me," Spot was surprised at her words. She thought he hadn't known? She thought he wasn't aware that his best friend had shut herself away from everyone she had known?

Dreamer visibly hesitated, before looking back toward the sunset and slowly saying, "I don't know 'bout dat, Spot. I dun know if I can do dat." She got up and headed past the window and out to face the last rays of the sun.

"Why da 'ell not?! Dreamah, we was unbeatable togedda, as best friends, gettin' in an' outta fights, sellin' our papes, beatin' da bulls. Why cain't we do dat again?" Spot was starting to get frustrated. He wanted her back! Well, to her old self. He wanted the Dreamer who laughed with abandon, who told him her secrets, who listened to his. He wanted her back to the way she was. He worried about her, and cared about her, more than he thought she knew.

"Ya don't undastand, Spot. I don't know if ya evah did." She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering a little in the slowly fading light. From what he saw, as he was still seated on the stair, she was crying again. He hated that. Not knowing what else to do, he got up and, with powerful strides, crossed to her and gently turned her to face him.

"Den make me undastand, Bianca," Concern filled his stormy eyes, as Spot spoke, wanting nothing more than for her to be happy again. Her tear-filled eyes angled away at first.

"It was _you'se_. I t'ought dat, maybe, ya act'ally thought the same way 'bout me dat I did 'bout ya. _Felt_ is more like it. Ya was always my best friend, Spot. Anyone else tried ta' call me Bianca, dey'd be soaked in a minute or less. Ya always knew dat and more. But dere was one t'ing dat ya didn't know 'bout me, even if I t'ought ya did for a while. What I mean is… I love ya, William James Conlon." When she finally said it, Dreamer was looking right in his eyes. Shock attacked the concern in his eyes and quickly gained control.

Spot was dumbfounded. Whatever he expected, it wasn't this. His best friend of ten years, the girl he'd fought alongside, the girl who'd dated him for two month (still his longest relationship to date), the only girl who really knew him, was in love with him? That would explain why she was so upset with him. It would also explain why she had him keep the key. But did he feel the same way? All he wanted was for her to be happy, to laugh with him, to be the sweet, beautiful, strong, and caring girl he'd always known. He wanted her to be back by his side, insisting on protecting him to the point that he feared for her.

'But, den again, ain't I been afraid for 'er dese past couple years?' He thought to himself. Sure enough, as much as he wanted to protect her, he was the one hurting her. Worse, it seemed, than just about any soaking could do. She'd only become a shell of herself. He hated that. He wanted her to smile again, a real smile. He wanted to hear her musical laugh again. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted _her_, heart and soul.

Spot snapped out of it as he realized that she was moving to turn away from him, to head back inside. Quickly, he reached out and grabbed her hand to bring her back to him. A spark seemed to jump between them and fill every nerve of his body. She turned back to him. Slowly, he placed his hand on her cheek. He wanted to say something. To tell her how he felt, but the words wouldn't come. So, instead, he just softly placed his lips to hers.

It was a reaction like he hadn't felt in any of his other girlfriends. This girl loved him, and that was what made the difference. It was like all color, light, and beautiful sound he had ever heard had melded together in his brain and spun like a kaleidoscope before his closed eyes.

Slowly and reluctantly, he pulled away. Leaning his forehead against hers, he said the words he hadn't thought he'd ever say.

"I love ya too, Bianca Maria Coppoli," He smiled at her, eyes full of that emotion he couldn't name before, "I'm sorry for all I put ya t'rough. I'm sorry I was so dense. Can ya fahgive dis poor old king. Aftah all, he ain't nuttin' wit out a queen by 'is side. Especially if ya da queen, if ya get what I mean."

Dreamer smiled up at Spot; a true, genuine smile, "Of course. I'll be ya queen, Spot," then, a light of mischief came into her eyes, a light that had been missing for a long time, "'Ey, where ya been gettin' all dem silly pick-up lines, anyways? You hangin' around Jackie too much?" A grin split across both of their faces as she gave him a light punch on the arm.

"Ah, well, 'e owed me," Spot grinned at 'his' girl as they began to slip back inside.

"What did ya do, Spot?" Dreamer shook her head and took his hand as he helped her back in.

"'e still owes me fah helpin' out wit da strike last year,"

"Well, he probably still woulda finished it wit out us. Ya gotta remember da crowd 'a kids dere dat day,"

Spot tried to look wounded, "Are ya tryin' ta suggest, Dreamah my deah, dat someone could actually get along wit out Brooklyn?"

"Well, maybe just Jackie," She laughed and smiled at him as they made there way out onto the landing, "'Cause I know I, fah one, could nevah get along wit out my Brooklyn." She turned to face him and slipped her arms around his neck.

"An' Brooklyn wouldn't do too well wit out you eider, Bianca," Spot whispered to her, before kissing her again. This time, though, almost the entire population of the lodging house watched below, as their leader finally got back that which he thought he had lost two years earlier.

Love

A/n2: Okay, before you say anything, I know it may have seemed a little OOC for Spot. I just think that he's really a caring guy, underneath it all. Not to mention, Dreamer (I know, I know! I'll work on my OC newsie nickname before next story!) would be able to get a different reaction out of him than anyone else. The song's really pretty!

I'm not gonna beg for reviews her, but, if you do, just be gentle. I spent all night working on this story, and I haven't posted a fanfic in years.

To let you know, I think the next story may be on Race. Either him or David. I dunno.

Thanks for reading!


	2. David's Story

A/n: Alright, it gets kind of tough to write the Newsie speak, so I'll save that for the story. I don't know if I said this (other than trying to fit it into the summary), but I want this to be a Valentine's Day treat for everyone, so I hope to get it done by then. Right now, I just want to thank my great reviewers, xLittlexItalyx, Mickeygee and NarniaRulz. They helped me choose which Newsie to write about. So, here's Davey's tale fore you!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Newsies. I do own the characters you don't recognize that aren't listed on the IMDB website for the movie. I don't own the song, either. That belongs to the fabulous country band, Emerson Drive. The song is called "Fall Into Me".

David's Story

"_I need you to know you can fall into me  
That my arms are wide open  
And will always be  
Right here waiting, staying strong  
Come and fall into me"_

_Emerson Drive_

David Jacobs hoped he'd made the right decision. His fellow newsies had been ribbing him into spending a night at the lodging house since the strike finished over a year ago. He'd thought about it, and put off going through with asking his parents about it. That is, until Jack had relived him of the duty to do that by asking for him one night, when he came over for dinner and to spend some 'quality time' on the fire escape with Sarah afterwards.

Of course, his parents liked the idea. It gave them a chance to be alone, because Sarah and Les joined him, under the strict regulations that Sarah stay the night in the _girls'_ bunkroom.

Jack had chosen, not only a week before Christmas, but the same night that some of the Brooklyn newsies would be joining them, being led by their leader Spot Conlon and his girl, Dreamer Coppoli. Dreamer was pleasant enough now, though he'd first met her when she was still upset about Spot breaking up with her. Now, she had a much happier appearance and almost always had a smile on. Spot wasn't as arrogant and had softened enough that, though he was still respected for what he _could_ do, he didn't strike absolute terror into the hearts and minds of the other newsies.

David didn't mind this. He and Spot had begun to get along much better. What bothered David was that he didn't really know what to do with himself. He wasn't that much for poker, though he could see Spot (accompanied by Dreamer), Jack (from whom Sarah was never very far away), Race, and most of the others crowded over there. He didn't care for the company of the others around, who, like Kid Blink, enjoyed spending the whole evening recounting their _exploits_ of the night before, and planning for similar activities that night. Les would be annoyed if he went over to keep an eye on the younger boys. Most of the girls were either sitting with (or on) their guys by the poker table, or huddled in the corner, gossiping about who was going out with whom. So, David had taken a seat at the window, to escape some of the clouds of smoke and shouts that filled the air towards the center of the room.

"'Ey, you'se mind if I'se join ya?" A female voice sounded over to David. It was familiar, but he couldn't place it. He looked up to see one of the Manhattan newsgirls, whose name he couldn't quite remember. She was pretty, with short, honey-toned hair, full lips, and wide, turquoise-blue eyes. Her lips were turned up in a slight smirk, but her eyes held no arrogance, only a soft kind of laughter.

Realizing that he'd been staring, David quickly replied, "Certainly!" However, his quick attempt at a cover-up failed.

"I'se know I ain't pretty, but ya don't gots ta stare at me like I gots t'ree 'eads!" She laughed, in a joking manner, but she'd meant what she'd said. She recognized him. He was Davey, a.k.a, the Walking Mouth, one of Jack's best friends, and the leader's 2nd in command. He wasn't hard on the eyes at all, what with his curly brown hair and matching brown eyes.

"Well, I guess turnabout's fair play, then?" He interrupted her thoughts with a chuckle, as she realized she'd been staring as well.

"Eh, I guess. So, why ya'se sittin' all da way ova heah, Davey?" She inquired, taking a seat next to him.

"I dunno. I just don't really feel like there's much for me to do. I'd hang out with Jack and the rest of them, but I don't do to well with poker. Not to mention," He added, with a bit of a grin, "If I have to witness Jack kissing my sister more often than strictly necessary, I will lose what little shred of sanity I have left," This left her laughing, "But, what about you? Why aren't you over there, talking to the other girls?"

"Who, me? Nah, dey don't really like havin' me around. I'se guess it's just 'cause I'se don't gossip like dey do. I'se don't really care ta hear about which 'a da guys is goin' fo' which 'a da goils, 'cept when it seems real. Like Cowboy an' ya sistah, or Spot an' Dreamah. An' den, I'se just 'appy fo' 'em." She smiled at him, and it seemed like she did that often. By this time, David was kind of embarrassed that he still couldn't remember her name.

"I'm really sorry, but what's your name? I know I should know it, but I can't remember right now." He asked politely. A small smile stayed on her face, but her eyes dropped a little. She didn't really expect him to remember her name, but she had hoped…

"Da name's Squirt. Da guys picked it up from my brodda, Dutchy." Her eyes perked up a bit more, "My real name is Hannah." David smiled back at her and then made the connection.

"You're the one who cut me in the distribution line all last month!" She laughed in reply, but nodded her head. Her smile had a mischievous note to it that he recalled seeing occasionally in Dutchy.

"Exactly, Davey boy," Squirt said when she was done laughing, "Guess I didn't make much 'a an impression, den?"

"No, no. Just haven't seen you around too often recently. You found someone else to cut?" David replied with a hint of humor.

"Mo' like Dutchy got mad at me fo' doin' dat so often. I'se can 'old my own in a fight, but I'se 'ate fightin' wit my brodda." Squirt quickly threw in the explanation, just so that she wouldn't be thought weak, since that was the other thing she hated. She could not let herself appear weak, or break in any way.

"Ah, well, that's too bad. I got used to seeing you, but I didn't think asking Jack where you'd gone would help." David shrugged.

"Yeah, askin' Cowboy would lead ta 'im teasin' us bot' an' askin' when we got togedda." She sighed and shook her head.

"So, is Dutchy your older or younger brother?" David asked, wanting to keep a conversation going, now that he had someone to talk to.

"'e's older, by about a yeah. I'se eighteen," Squirt then asked, "What 'bout you'se? I know you'se oldah den Les, but is Sarah yah oldah or youngah sistah?"

"She's older, but not by much. About the same distance as between you and Dutchy," Thinking the topic of family was going rather well, David continued, "So, how did you and Dutchy end up as newsies?"

Her reaction immediately told him this was the wrong question. Her cheerful face went blank, as though she'd applied a mask. The sparkle in her eyes disappeared and her smile became a pursed line.

"I'd rada not ansa dat, Davey, do ya mind?" Her voice was flat.

"That's perfectly fine, Squirt. I should've realized that it may not be an easy topic to talk about," He quickly replied, hoping he hadn't scared her away.

"It's… Its okay, Davey. Hey, by da way, t'ink ya could just call me Hannah? I'se kinda not dat big a fan 'a da whole 'Squirt' nickname, ya got it?" She eased a bit and smiled gently, but the spark in her eyes hadn't fully returned yet. Just then, Dutchy appeared, looming over his little sister.

"'Ey Squirt, 'ey Davey. What's goin' on?" He inquired.

"Hey, Dutchy," David replied.

"Nuttin' much ovah heah, Dutch. Why ain't 'ch ya at da pokah table? Did Race, Jokah, Spot, an' Cowboy clean ya out already?" The spark was back, now that Hannah was good-naturedly ribbing her brother. Dutchy just laughed slightly and hung his head a bit.

"Yeah, yeah, I'se guess. But dis is da last time! I'll beat 'em tomorrow night!" Dutchy insisted. David got the feeling that this was a conversation that happened often. Sure enough, Hannah's response confirmed it.

"Ah, you'se say dat ev'ry night, Dutch. Why don't you'se just give up an' stop playin wit dem? I ain't gonna be givin' ya money fa papes when ya get even dumbah and bet all ya money. Now you'se see why I don't play," The last part was said to David, who was silently laughing at the little family comedy sketch going on before him. That was when Dutchy looked over to him.

"'Ey, why don't you'se join da game, Davey? You'se just been huddled over here all night. Ain't 'ch 'ya gonna play at all?" The bespectacled boy seemed to find the choice a curious one.

"No, I don't think I should. After all, the only money I still have left on me is the money for my papes tomorrow. I gave the rest to my parents. Anyways, I was having a nice time talking to Hannah," He gave her a genuine smile, which she returned in kind. Though neither of them saw, Dutchy's eyebrows just about hit his hat brim. He quickly recovered, so neither of them had a chance to notice, then picked up Hannah's dark purple cap and ruffled her hair, which was similar to his.

This led to another comedic scene, where Hannah was simultaneously trying to fix her hair to lie flat again and chasing her brother around the room to get her hat back. This provided an entertaining distraction for all in the room, especially those who were losing at the poker table. The chase ended spectacularly, with Hannah finally tackling her brother to the ground and sitting on him until she got her hat back. Then, standing up, hat proudly perched on her head; she placed one foot on his abdomen and set her hands on her hips… until Dutchy pulled her down by that one leg with a small thud. The whole room burst into roaring laughter and some smattered applause, to which the siblings stood up and promptly took a bow.

Laughing, both Dutchy and Hannah came back to the window, where David was chuckling and shaking his head at them.

"You guys do that often?" He asked them, smiling all the while.

Dutchy swung his arm around his little sister's shoulders and replied, "Yeah, at least once a week."

Hannah looked up at her brother and gently elbowed him in the ribs, "'Ey, don't bring me down so 'ard next time!"

"Me! You'se was da one who really tackled me!" Dutchy argued then leaned in to whisper something to her, "I don't t'ink ya really needed ta show off fa Davey. I t'ink ya already got 'im; 'ook, line, an' sinkah."

"Why don't you'se go flirt wit da goils, see if any 'a dem'll take ya comp'ny!" And, with that, she shoved him off in the direction of the gossipers on the other side of the room.

"What was that about?" David asked her, as she sat back down and watched Dutchy amble over to the poker table instead with a sigh.

"Ah, nothin' Davey. 'e's just teasin' me again," She added, with an irritated grumble, "An' if 'e loses any mo' 'a 'is money at dat pokah table, I'll personally soak 'im!"

They spent the rest of the night talking about this and that. Finally, when everyone else was heading up to bed, they began to follow.

"'Night Davey," Hannah said, as they began to part ways.

"'Night Hannah," He replied, "Oh, and Hannah," She stopped in the doorway, looking back at him and waiting, "Just to let you know, if you have anything you want to talk about, I'm here. I'll listen."

Her face broke into a grin, "T'anks, Davey. I may take you'se up on dat sometime." She went in the girls' bunkroom, and David left for the boys' sleeping quarters, with a small smile on his face.

He'd really enjoyed talking to her. She was animated, funny, caring, and seemed to be a generally happy person. Even as he thought about this, though, he couldn't help but remember her reaction to the question about how she and her brother became newsies. He knew some of the kids had some pretty heartbreaking stories, but he'd never heard Dutchy and Hannah's story.

The second he stepped into the room, Dutchy approached him.

"Squirt an' you'se get along well?" It was as much of a statement as a question.

"Yes, Dutchy. Hannah is really nice. Funny, too," David replied, being entirely honest about his opinion of the girl.

"Davey, I know yer a good guy, but realize I'se speakin' as a big brodda heah. Ya know 'ow it is. If Squirt's comes ta ya 'bout somet'in, an' she sounds serious, it ain't no joke. She may seem like lots 'a fun, but she's still a goil, an' she needs ta talk sometimes," Dutchy's serious attitude had worried him, until his tone changed to a bit more of a teasing one, "An' if ya hoit 'er, not only am I gonna be soakin' ya, as 'er big brodda, but ya can count on it dat Cowboy, Spot, Mush, Specs, even _Crutchy_ will join me. Not ta mention what Dreamah and some 'a da odder goils will do."

"Don't worry, Dutchy. You're looking a bit too much into this. After all, I… I just met her!" David defended himself.

"Yeah, kid, you'se just sat in a room full 'a ya buddies an' ignored most 'a dem fa a goil ya just met," The blond reminded him, before turning away to hang out with Specs, but not before David thought he heard him mutter, "I'll be damned if it don't come ta anyt'in'."

҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉

David spent the night peacefully, and had fun the next day. On the distribution line, he let Hannah cut him and joked around with her. He even went off to sell with her, leaving Les and Jack to fend for themselves. Jack and Dutchy exchanged a raised eyebrow, before heading off to hawk their headlines.

It kept on that way for the next week. Jack invited David over to the lodging house on Christmas Eve, and Hannah convinced him to come. They'd grown really close over the course of the week. Hannah told David things about her that only Dutchy knew, and even some things that her brother had no clue about. David was a willing listener, and answered questions about his own life readily. She seemed to become a closer friend to him than even Jack was. What surprised them both was that they had actually found a friend in each other that they could just be silent with, and it wouldn't feel awkward.

Dutchy and Jack watched them over the course of the week and became convinced that they were slowly beginning to like each other, maybe even fall in love. That was when they came up with a plan…

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It was Christmas Eve, and, once again, the Jacobs kids were visiting the lodging house. The 'halls' had been 'decked' as much as Kloppman and the newsies could get it, with some red bows on the banisters, the ever-rare Christmas tree in the main room, and, thanks to Jack and Dutchy, a sprig of mistletoe by the window. Snow was falling outside, making the streets appear like a Christmas card, and leading Jack to joke with Sarah about having to stay the night.

Despite the lack of money, everyone found a way to give everyone else _something_. Race's gift for everyone was a bit of a harmonica concert-turned-dance, where Melody (one of the other female newsies) added with her own present of singing. Hannah and Dutchy added more to their normal comedy routines, giving the gift of laughter. Sarah had fixed up some of the younger newsies' clothes, to keep the cold out a bit better. Les gave some of his better marbles to Boots and Snipeshooter. As for David, he got the picture from the strike from Denton and had it framed, to be put in the main room.

Many of the gifts were just little, personal things. Sarah gave Jack a new bandanna, which she made herself. Dutchy slipped his sister the money he made on the poker table that night (because Jack's present to everyone was that he was going easy on them).

David had noticed, in their times spent making up headlines, that Hannah's hands were likely to freeze out there soon enough. So, he took some of the little money he'd set aside for Christmas presents and bought her a new pair of mittens. When he pulled her aside and gave them to her, her eyes practically filled with tears.

"Davey, ya didn't 'ave ta do dis," She insisted, trying them on, "Ya should'a used da money fa ya fam'ly."

"My parents told Sarah, Les, and me to keep some of our money to use for Christmas presents," He replied, smiling at her reaction.

"Well, den ya should'a used it fa presents fa dem, or fa Jack. Ya shouldn't'a done dis fa a goil ya barely know," She kept on trying to make it sound like he'd bought her a diamond, for crying out loud!

"Hannah!" She looked up from her dithering when he said her name almost forcefully, "I did it because I wanted to, and because you're as much of my best friend as Jack is, maybe even more. My family will be fine with what they got, and Jack… well, he's a little wrapped up in Sarah, so my permission to date her should be present enough." This caused the blonde in front of him to laugh.

"'ere, let's move away from dis noise, and I'll give ya my present," Hannah took him by the hand, mittens still on, and lead him into the kitchen. When they got there, to his surprise, she didn't produce a package for him, but turned to face him.

"I'se know its a little differ'nt den normal, but I'se gonna tell ya somet'in fa ya present," She said seriously. Remembering what Dutchy had told him, David just looked at her and waited while she thought about how she was going to say this.

"You'se asked a question 'a me last week, 'bout how me an' Dutchy ended up wit da newsies. Well, afta talkin' wit Dutch fa a while, I figured I'se gonna tell ya," She took a deep breath to steady herself and then dove into the story, "Dutch an' I was raised by a dad dat hit us, an' a ma who was always out, sellin' 'erself so's dat we could 'ave a roof an' some food. Dutchy was a newsie foist, when 'e was only eight. 'e 'ated it, 'cause dat meant 'e 'ad ta leave me alone wit dat scum we called 'fadda.' I'se 'ad ta learn ta defend myself. One day, I was tryin' ta fight 'im off, an' Dutch walked in from sellin' 'is papes early,"

She shook her head and took another deep breath, "I ain't seen Dutch 'alf as mad before or since. Da closest I'se evah seen 'im ta dat level 'a angah was when Blink broke up wit me 'cause I wouldn't go ta bed wit 'im. At nine yeahs ol', 'e tried ta soak our dad. An' 'e did real well, too. Roughed 'im up quite a bit. We ran upstairs an' hid on da fire escape. 'e even tried ta beat down da door… 'til Ma came home," Hannah ducked her head and took the longest pause so far. David moved closer to her, and reached out a hand. She took it and held on tightly, as though he was the only thing tacking her down to the present.

"She came in an', so fa as Dutch an' I know, she nevah knew what 'it 'er. Da scum ran from da door an' sta'ted soakin' 'er. But, I'se guess Ma 'ad 'ad it wit da bastahd. Undah 'is blows, she managed ta get a gun out from undah 'er skoit. An'… she shot im'. But, 'e'd already landed too many good punches on 'er. Dutch an' I ran towards da front room. Dere, we saw somet'in' dat I'se still see in my nightmares. Our fadda, lyin' on da ground, blood pourin' outta 'im. But worse, was our ma, leanin' 'gainst a chair, gaspin' fa breath. She 'ad bruises, mo' bruises den when 'e usually 'it 'er, colorin' up 'er face an' arms. We ran ova to 'er, fast as we could. She told us ta run, so's dat we wouldn' be split up an' sent ta odder fam'lies. She told Dutchy ta take care 'a me. She told us she loved us, an' told us ta go. I'se can still 'ear 'er, late at night, when I can't sleep. Dutchy an' I ran upstairs, an' took what we 'ad, we grabbed clothes, money, an' we ran. Dutchy knew most 'a da odder newsies lived 'ere, so 'e led me. Kloppman took us in, an' we'se been newsies evah since," She looked up at David, and, for the first time, he saw tear tracks on her cheeks.

Realizing she was crying, she gave a little laugh, took her hand from his, and wiped her face with her sleeve, "Now ya see why I'se don't like tellin' da story. Ah, I prob'ly look a wreck. I 'ate cryin'. Makes me look weak, an' a goil newsie's got 'nough trouble from da Delancy brodders wit out lookin' weak."

David stopped her hand, and took it again, "You know, you don't need to be strong with me, Hannah. It's okay to just let go once in a while." He smiled at her, fully appreciating now what it must have taken her to tell him this and to act so cheerful most of the time.

The caring look in his eyes was all it took, that and the gentle, comforting pressure of his hand on hers, to make her really start to cry, as she hadn't before anyone but Dutchy. The reaction surprised David a bit, but he pulled her into a hug and silently willed her to cry into him.

They stood that way for what felt like hours, but could only have been a few minutes. When Hannah finally pulled back, blinking away the last of the tears, she was smiling more sincerely than he'd ever seen her. Silently, they agreed to head back into the main room, where it sounded like Race and Melody had started up the music again. Not too far away, Dutchy stood, seemingly waiting for them to return. David, with his arm still around Hannah's shoulders, nodded with a new respect toward the blond newsboy. She smiled at her brother and he gave a small smile in return.

They went to their usual spot over by the window. They sat in silence, Hannah recovering a bit from the ordeal of retelling the story and David both trying to comfort her and fully digest the story of the amazing young woman sitting next to him. Of course, neither of them recalled what hung above that very spot.

"'ey, Jack! What 'ave we got 'ere!" Boots yelled over to the leader. Jack looked away from Sarah only to see David and Hannah sitting beneath the little sprig of mistletoe he and Dutchy had hung earlier as carefully as more privileged children hung their stockings.

"Well, well. You'se two know da tradition," He commented with a smirk on his face. Sarah giggled quietly at her brother. David looked up at the innocently offending piece of greenery, then back at Hannah. She shrugged, biting her lower lip a bit. He was nervous. After all, he'd never kissed anyone outside his family before.

Race, who was taking a break between songs, watched the hesitation between the pair and called out, "Ah, come on, Davey! Give Squirt a kiss!" Dutchy smiled at his sister's predicament, but knew this was what it would take to give her a push in the right direction.

"I'se guess we 'ave ta, Davey. Aftah all, I ain't one ta break traditions," Hannah whispered to him. Now realizing that he had, not only her permission, but maybe the only opportunity he'd have to kiss her, he took the chance. He slowly and gently put his lips to hers, as he'd (unfortunately) seen Jack doing to his sister (too) often.

He suddenly felt more alive than he ever had before. It was like a spark that had been buried for all his seventeen years was finally unearthed. He wanted to give everything he had to keep that spark lit, and to fan it into a blaze.

Hannah, who _had_ been kissed before, had never felt something so real as what she felt when she kissed David. The kiss was both gentle, yet searing; passionate, yet stable. This was exactly what she had always looked for, what the fairytales she'd read as a child had described.

When they finally broke apart, they looked at each other as though through brand new eyes. In him, she saw that spark, and a reflection everything she was feeling, in his eyes. In her, he saw a beauty that had always been there, but that she was only now allowing to shine through. Smiling, he leaned in for another kiss.

They were oblivious to everything else. To the cat-calls echoing around the room, to Dutchy's proud smile at the young woman his sister had become, to Jack and Sarah's amused smiles. It didn't matter to them, because they'd found the most beautiful Christmas present of all in each other. The present that no one can buy, no matter if they were even as rich as Joseph Pulitzer and William Randolph Hearst themselves.

A/n2: Well, I got David's story written! Yay me! Now, once I save it, upload it, and do the dishes, it's time for this writer to get to bed. If you've seen my profile, you'll know that Race's story is up next. Hopefully, that will be done by Friday/Saturday.

Review if you'd like, but be gentle. I wanted to get this out, because David was requested. Oh, and reviews make me want to write faster, by the way!


	3. Race's Story

A/n: Squeals I can't believe that my latest chapter was up for less than twelve hours, and I got a fan-tabulous review! Okay, Mickeygee, you are officially one of my favorite people now. Not to mention, Mad 'atter, you're just great as is. NarniaRulz, you're awesome. And RandomAnza, thanks!

Disclaimer: I don't own the newsies you recognize from the movie. The girls are mine, though. And, as for the song, that's not mine either. The version I used belongs to Harry Connick Jr., and is entitled "It Had to Be You" Look it up!

Racetrack's Story

"_Some others I've seen,  
Might never mean.  
Might never be cross,  
Or try to be boss,  
But they wouldn't do.  
For nobody else gave me a thrill,  
With all your faults I love you still.  
It had to be you, wonderful you,  
It had to be you.__"  
__Harry Connick Jr._

Catherine "Joker" McAllister was the best poker player in the Manhattan Lodging House… well, the best _female_ poker player. There was only one person who could hold his own in a game against her. And she hated him for it.

Racetrack Higgins was the biggest thorn in Joker's side that could have ever existed. From his cocky attitude, to his skill at poker; she hated him for almost everything he did, whether intended or not. She wished she would never have to see him again.

That was rather impossible though, for two reasons: one, they lived in the same lodging house; two, her best friend, Melody Lucas, was also _his_ best friend. It was something she could never understand. How could her best friend, so sweet and shy, be best friends with that loud-mouthed, sarcastic, stubborn, swaggering, harmonica-playing, cigar-smoking, gambling-addict of an Italian?!

"Ya know, Jokah, you'se an' Race ain't all dat diff'rent," Melody would insist that to her every time Joker got on one of those rants. And every time, after that comment was made, Melody would find herself cowering from a death glare.

'Ha! Me, like 'im? Nevah,' Joker thought to herself as she stumbled around the girls' washroom one morning, looking for a towel. It was freezing cold out, so all the girls hurried through getting ready. She quickly put her dark brown cap on over her long, auburn braids, and dashed through the door after Melody and Squirt, another good friend of hers.

Taking a quicker route to the distribution center than the winding one the boys did, they found themselves among the first on line. While waiting for Weasel to open up, the girls began to talk about where they'd sell today.

"I'se takin' a trip down ta Broadway ta sell taday wit Davey." Squirt said, twirling a bit of her honey-colored hair. Joker looked at her, bemused, and shook her head. It had only been less than a week since she and David Jacobs had gotten together, but they'd been almost inseparable the whole time.

"I think I'se gonna 'ead down ta Bottle Alley," Melody shrugged, tugging the brim of her grayish cap over one bright blue eye.

"I'se takin' Central Park, fa a change 'a scene. 'Ey, anyways, it's guaranteed dat I'se gonna do well. People go dere all da time," Joker gave a bit of a smirk. She normally took the busy streets, but sticking to one spot wasn't her style. Anyways, it had snowed overnight, so the park would be really nice today.

"'ello, ladies," A male voice called to them. An unpleasant male voice, that is. Joker took a quick glance over her shoulder. Sure enough, Oscar and Morris Delancey were heading down the street. From the looks of it, they hadn't had their morning run-in with Jack, so they were in a pleasant mood… well, for them, which meant it was a slimy type of pleasant.

"Why don't you'se two just get in dere an' get da papes ready? We don't want no trouble," Squirt didn't feel like starting a fight so early in the day.

"Well, maybe if ya give us a little kiss, we'se might," Oscar suggested as he sauntered up to them. Joker was slowly losing what little patience she had. The Delancey brothers were the only boys who could piss her off faster than Race.

"I'd rada kiss Race, den kiss eider 'a you'se," She snapped at them, "An' I'd rada kiss a scabbah, or a dismembahed toad, den 'im."

"Ooh, someone's a little touchy dis mornin'. You'se bettah watch out, sweet'eart, or we may not _ask_ next time," Oscar told her, leaning in close while his brother nodded behind him.

"Lis'en, jus' back off, Delancey. We ain't int'rested in you'se," Squirt grinned suddenly, "An' I don't t'ink _dey_ like you'se hangin' 'round us eider." She pointed past the thugs, to where the boys were standing with none-too-pleasant looks on their faces. Jack, of course, had no love for the Delancey brothers in general. David was furious with the scum for being anywhere near his girl. Dutchy hated the fact that they were after his sister, as did his best friend Specs, who saw Squirt as his own little sister. Race, Joker assumed, was mad that they were bugging his best friend. Most of the others needed little reason other than the fact that they were the Delancey brothers picking on some newsies to want vengance.

"You'se guys might want ta get goin', ya know. While ya still gots legs ta run on," Joker laughed. Oscar gave Jack a look of furious terror, then venomously turned back to her and shoved her into the snow on the ground.

"Ya may not wanna mess wit us, sweet'eart. Ya little 'friends' won't be 'round ta protect ya all da time," He hissed. He gave her a harsh kick in the ribs, and then disappeared behind the gate with Morris in tow.

At the same time, David, Dutchy, Race, and, for some reason, Mush came rushing over to the three girls. David immediately pulled the stunned Squirt into an embrace, with Dutchy waiting for his turn nearby. Mush went over to Melody to make sure the quiet girl was okay.

Recovering from the slight shock of actual physical violence towards her, Joker slowly began to dust herself off, only to see a hand extended to her. Following the arm, she saw Race standing over her, looking concerned. She pushed the hand away and got to her feet on her own.

"You'se okay, Jokah?" The Italian boy asked her, watching her cautiously.

"What 'bout it? I'se been pushed, shoved, an' kicked before. It ain't not'in' I ain't used to. Aftah all, I live wit da newsies." She replied roughly, not looking at him.

"Yeash, okay, okay, foine, foine. Sarry fa' askin'," Race replied, before turning away to go through the now-opened gates. Joker thought she heard him mutter something like, "I'se was just worried." She didn't have much time to dwell on it, though, as Melody and Squirt had stormed her for confirmation on her wellbeing. The three of them trooped in to the distribution line, flanked by Mush, Dutchy, and David.

The three girls got their papes easily and split up. Joker walked away with her head held high, aware of the concerned looks that followed her. Yes, her side did hurt, but not much. It wasn't anything bad enough to keep her from making a living.

She got to the park and took up a spot not far from the pond. She quickly began hawking her headlines. About an hour after she started, she heard a voice doing the same. A familiar one, almost as unpleasant to her as Oscar Delancey's. She kept on trying to sell her papes, but her business had been cut in half, thanks to this pain in her… yeah, you get the picture.

At noon, she took the usual break, heading over to Tibby's to catch lunch with the rest of the newsies. As she reached the entrance, she ran into the bane of her existence… literally.

"What, am I just _meant_ ta be on da ground taday?" She looked up, rubbing the side that both she just landed on and Oscar kicked earlier, and glared, "Why da 'ell are ya always dere when someone knocks me down?"

"Guess dat's just my luck, beautiful. Ya gonna let me 'elp ya up dis time?" Racetrack asked her. Her glare gave her answer, but she voiced it anyways.

"Not if it means I'se gotta touch ya. What're ya doin' 'ere anyways? You'se normally ova at Sheepshead, losin' bets faster den ya sell papes," She spat the question at him, pushing herself off the ground and beginning to walk away. Unfortunately, he walked with her.

"Felt like keepin' my money taday," Race answered her, with a look of feigned innocence.

"C'mon, what gamblin' addict don't t'ink 'e's gonna win? What's ya real reason?" Joker was sure there was another reason.

"Okay, ya caught me. Melody sent me 'ere, ta make sure you'se was okay," Race replied, looking caught.

"That goil worries too much. I'se foine. I'se taken worse beatin's before," She shrugged. She'd managed to conceal the fact that the fall had made her side hurt more, but wanted to check when she got to Tibby's.

"Ya didn't look foine when ya 'it da ground just now," Race tried to say it off-handedly, but it didn't work. His personal worry shone through a bit too much, but Joker's pride took over.

"I said I'se foine, so dat means I'se foine! Got it, 'iggins?" She snapped at him, before running the rest of the way to Tibby's.

This time, Race didn't try to catch up. He slowed down and shook his head sadly.

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Time passed quickly for the rest of the day. Either Melody had released Racetrack from 'Joker watch', or he'd moved farther away, because Joker hadn't seen or heard the gambler since they left Tibby's.

She stayed out there late, until she was sure she'd sold her last pape. It was dusk out, that time where it's almost evening, but the last rays of the sun are still fading in the sky. The air was crisp, clear, and cold. The New Year was well on its way, with tomorrow night being New Year's Eve. Joker began the trek back to the lodging house with very few qualms with the world. The Delanceys weren't around, and neither was Racetrack. Another holiday was soon to be underway. The night was beautiful, if a little chilly.

Three-quarters of the way home, she began to feel someone was following her. Feeling more than a bit concerned about this, she took an alleyway she knew to be a shortcut… only to run straight into Oscar Delancey.

"Well, well, well. Ain't so tough wit out ya little friends, eh sweet'eart?" He sneered, looming in front of her. Joker tried to turn around, but found Morris blocking her way.

"Didn't t'ink we'd let ya get away wit dem insults so easily, did ya?" Oscar continued, grabbing her wrists and pulling her close. In an instinctive reaction, she tried to fight. She kicked and thrashed as much as she could, but she couldn't catch enough breath to scream.

"Now, now, ya little puddytat, that's enough outta ya," Oscar pushed her up against the wall and forced his lips against hers. She still continued to fight and kick, until she felt Oscar's weight be shoved away. She looked around frantically and saw Morris on the ground, looking dazed, Oscar getting to his feet, and Racetrack catching his breath, posed in a fighting stance.

"Jokah, run! Get de odders!" Race called to her. It only took the moment she needed to snap out of it for Oscar to start attacking Race. She quickly bolted back to the lodging house.

She didn't know how fast she ran, or who she may have run into, but she made it back in record time, busting in through the door to see the evening's normal activities mostly underway. She paused, trying to catch her breath. In the time she did, her entrance had been noticed by Jack, Melody, Squirt, Dutchy, and some of the others.

"… Race… Delanceys… Alleyway… Trap… Help… Hurry!" She gasped out, as loud as she could. She took a deep breath and gestured to the boys, before turning and running back out the door. She could hear the boys behind her, hurrying to keep up. She stopped at the edge of the alley, let the boys catch up, and led them in.

The sight was horrific. There was lots of blood. Racetrack appeared to be losing, as he was slowly losing his balance, taking wider swings and kicks, and slowing down. Meanwhile, the Delanceys were having the time of their lives ganging up on him. Whenever one brother got tired, the other would step in, with Oscar doing most of the attacking.

The newsies, seeing their comrade in trouble, leaped into action. Each of the Delanceys found themselves with about five to ten newsies attacking them. In the midst of the fray, Joker wove in and out, shouting for Race and looking for the familiar smirk. She found him and ran over to him.

He was paler than usual, his face as white as an angel's wings. He was bleeding from his mouth and nose, coughing up a storm, and had bruises blossoming around his brown eyes and down his forearms. As she reached him, he finally began his descent towards the ground. Joker caught him, as quickly as she could. His eyes caught her green ones and he smiled a real smile at her, for one of the first (and, possibly, she feared the last) times in his life.

"'ey dere, beautiful," He coughed, "I'se guess I got ta ya in time."

"Race, fa once in ya eva-lovin' life, don't talk. I'll get ya back ta Kloppman," Joker insisted. She proceeded to swing her free arm under his knees, and walk as fast as she could without jostling him too much. To her surprise, she actually managed to get him back home in a decent amount of time.

"Kloppman!" Joker called, pushing the door open with her back, "Kloppman, we need help ova' 'ere!" As the little, older man came rushing into the room, she began to take Race to the boys' bunkroom. As she set him down on a bed that had one of his cigars nearby, Kloppman finally caught up with her.

"Alright, Joker. Ya get downstairs; da odder girls are worried sick about ya," The look on her face must have given her away, because Kloppman followed this up with a smile, "I'll tidy 'im up, an' den I'll let ya in ta see 'im." She gave a tired, attempt at a smile, and slumped out of the room. She clumped down the stairs heavily, before sinking down on the bottom step and dropping her head into her hands. Almost immediately, she was grabbed by two sets of hands. She freaked and began to thrash, before a familiar voice stopped her.

"Jeeze Louise, Jokah. What 'appened ta you'se an' Race?" Melody asked her best friend, struggling to keep her calm.

"Melody?" She looked up, "Squirt? Please, jus'… not 'ere," Her eyes had begun to well with tears, "I'se really jus' need some time. I'se scared, an' worried, an' I dunno what else."

The two girls looked at each other over their friend's auburn head. This was entirely unlike Joker. She'd been in fights before, and had never blinked an eye at some pretty bad injuries. Now, Race was beat up pretty badly, the boys were out fighting what they thought was the Delanceys, and Joker was on her way to meltdown city. They quickly led her up to the girls' room, closed the door, and sat with her on her bed.

"C'mon, Jokah. It's just us now. Can ya tell us what happened?" Squirt tried to soothe the shaking girl. Melody rubbed her back, like a mother comforting her child, trying to encourage her to talk.

"I…" She took a breath, "I was walkin' 'ome from da Park, since I sold me last pape. I t'ought someone was followin' me, so I ducked inta da alleyway. Dat's where dey was 'idin'."

"Who, da Delanceys?" Squirt tried to help her along. Joker nodded.

"Dey… dey wanted ta get me back, fa dis mornin'. Dey 'ad me trapped in de alley. Osca' grabbed my 'ands an' shoved me against da wall. Den he slobbahed all ova' me,"

"Did he…?" Melody asked worriedly, trailing off, yet making it clear exactly what she meant.

"Nah, nah. Race must 'a taken down Morris while Osca' was busy wit me. He knocked Osca' off me, an' told me ta run, ta get da odder boys. So, I did. When we got back, Race was almost out fa da count. Dere was blood ev'rywhere, but I don't t'ink all 'a it was Race's. Still, 'e looked terrible when we'se got back. 'A course, da boys took ta beatin' da livin' crap outta da Delanceys. I looked fa Race, an' brought 'im back 'ere. You'se know da rest…" She trailed off, then rounded on Melody, "Why'd ya send 'im aftah me dis mornin'? If ya 'adn't 'a worried 'bout me so much, 'e wouldn't be like dis right now!"

"I… I…" Melody stammered, then spoke out, "I nevah sent Race dis mornin'. 'E just asked where ya were 'eaded taday, so's we told 'im. Den, if 'e followed ya, it's prob'ly 'cause…" She trailed off, as though she realized she may have said too much.

"Prob'ly what, Mel? Why'd Race come aftah me dis mornin'?" Joker began to inquire fervently, "Why was 'e followin' me taday, if ya didn't ask 'im?"

"Jokah…," Squirt trailed off, steadying the still-shuddering girl, "Race is sweet on ya. 'E 'as been fa yeahs." Joker looked at her, not fully comprehending.

"Race… sweet on _me_? Racetrack 'iggins? Nah, ya gots ta be kiddin' me. We _'ate_ each odder!" Joker got up and began pacing the floor.

"Nah, Jokah. It was _you_ who 'ated _'im_. Which, by da way, we nevah undastood, since 'e nevah did anyt'in' ta you. 'E nevah undastood it eider, but 'e still cared 'bout ya an' tried ta protect ya. Dat's prob'ly why 'e followed ya taday. Dat's prob'ly why 'e fought da Delanceys fa ya," Melody informed her, feeling that telling what she knew was of no harm, now that Joker knew the truth. She stopped pacing and stood there, mouth gaping at her two friends.

"I… I can't believe dis. I always t'ought 'e just wanted ta annoy me. I t'ought 'e called all da goils 'beautiful'. Didn't 'e call _you_ dat, Mel?" When Melody shook her head, Joker leaned against the bedpost and sighed, "So, you'se mean ta tell me dat, 'cause 'a _my_ stubbornness an' pride, da boy whose done nothin' but be sweet on me an' try ta protect me is currently lyin' in da boys' room, an' may not wake up ta tell me so 'imself?" The tears that had threatened before now began a slow descent down her lightly freckled cheeks. Just then, the door opened and Kloppman stepped in, looking a bit worried.

"Joker, I'm getting da doctor. I'm not too sure if I can do as much for 'im as he needs. Can ya go sit with 'im while I'm gone?" She quickly wiped away her tears and nodded, but not before the older man had seen. As he led her out of the room, he patted her on the back, "Don't worry. If 'e 'as any reason ta come out of this, it's you." She looked at him, confused, but he just chuckled, "Ya probably t'ink I don't see what ya guys do, how ya guys act around each odder. Well, I know 'ow ya both t'ink, young lady. I was in love once too." Kloppman opened the door and smiled at her, before he disappeared down the stairs.

Slowly, Joker walked over to the bed where the vulnerable figure lay. In the candlelight, he looked so innocent, so young, even though she knew they were the same age. Kloppman had cleaned the blood away from his mouth and nose, but his lip was still swollen, and his right eye and his nose were bruised something awful.

She sat lightly next to him, and gently pushed his dark hair away from his face. She looked on him as she never had before. His boyish face, normally dimpled with a smirk, had a small smile, reminiscent of the one he had given her when she caught him. One hand rested on his stomach while the other draped over the other side of the bed.

Something in her told her to take his hand, so she did. It was warm, and slightly rough. The fingers were slightly long, and showed the toll such a hard life could take on the young man's body. Softly, she began rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb and humming a song. It was just a little string of notes that had a comforting sound to them. She wasn't a very musical person, so that was over pretty quickly. When she couldn't think of anything else to do, she started talking to him.

''Ey Race," She murmured to him, "Bet'cha surprised ta 'ear me, 'stead 'a Melody. Dat don't mean she ain't worried 'bout ya, t'ough. Not only 'er, eider. Didja see da boys? Dey jumped on da Delanceys like cats on mice! Dey're not back yet, far as I know.

"Kloppman went ta get da dactah. 'E… 'e says 'e can't fix ya up 'imself. Ya worryin' me, Race. I mean, c'mon! If ya leave me 'ere…," Joker wanted something funny to say. She wanted to be able to make him wake up and laugh with her. But, the thought of him dying, of him leaving her alone, without ever confirming what Melody and Squirt told her, brought the tears back to her eyes. She looked him in the face, having to tell his unconscious form what she didn't think she'd ever be able to tell him when he was awake.

"Ya can't go, Race. Ya too young. We'se just kids, Race. We ain't even gotten da chance ta do anyt'in'. Ta fall in love, start a fam'ly, act'ally _'ave_ money in our pockets. So you'se gotta be okay. 'Cause… 'cause I don't know what I'd do wit out 'cha, Racetrack. I mean, even if ya annoy me; even if ya da only one who beats me at pokah; even if I'se been rude, proud, mean, an' terrible; I need ya," She looked back down at his hand, entwined in her own, and gave it a light squeeze, "Ya know, I t'ink da goils were right. We'se both loud, stubborn, proud, gamblers who would do anyt'in' fa our friends. We'se sarcastic. We 'ave secrets. We'se more alike den I'se evah wanted ta imagine. But if I lost ya, I don't know if I could be like dat again. If I could be myself, if ya weren't 'ere ta show me what I am. I'se a fool, Race,"

"I'se a fool, 'cause I was so wrapped up in myself, I couldn't see ya. I couldn't see dat dere was a reason ya were nevah as mean back ta me as I was ta ya. I couldn't accept dat dere was a reason fa' ya to be so worried an' protective. Now I know. But don't blame Melody an' Squirt. If dem an' Kloppman are right, den you'se been pretty obvious ta ev'ry one but me. Wit dis, I figure I'se been wrong 'bout ya. Ya ain't da woist t'ing dat's 'appened ta me. Ya saved my life tanight. Even 'fore I found out, I was scared fa ya. Ya looked so pale, so weak. I'se nevah seen ya like dat. Ya was always strong, sarcastic, and smirkin'. So, when ya act'ally _smiled_ at me, I knew I 'ad ta get ya ta Kloppman," She laughed a bit, but it sounded strange in this quiet room, "I couldn't 'elp but worry, an' I don't know why. It's like; when I saw ya fightin dem damn Delanceys, I just wanted ta take ya away from dere. Seein' ya like dat, all bloody and bruised up, fa _me_ just broke somet'in' in me. I wanted ta be da one ta make it bettah. I nevah wanted ta leave ya, 'cause I didn't know if you'd be taken while I was gone, before I'd get the chance ta tell ya," Her eyes had gone from misty to waterfalls in the course of this speech, tearing down her freckled cheeks like mountain rivers. This was nothing Joker was used to. It was frightening, thinking that you may lose the one you love, without even realizing you love them. She squeezed his hand again, but stayed silent. Then, another voice broke the silence.

"What, no more heartfelt professions of love? Ain't ya gonna say what ya t'ought ya wouldn't get ta?" Joker's head whipped around, and her eyes went wide. Racetrack was smiling up at her, squeezing her hand right back, "What, ya cryin' ova' me?" His face gained a more serious look, as he took his free hand and wiped the tears away.

"How… How much did ya 'ear, Race?" She asked tentatively. Now, facing a conscious Race, she was much more nervous than she'd been talking to an unconscious one.

"Enough, beautiful. Let's see, I'se know ya know my little 'secret'," He blushed a bit, "I know you'se was worried 'bout me, and… uh… I don't t'ink ya a fool."

"And… uh… what do ya have ta say?" She bit her lip, realizing they still hadn't released each others' hands.

"C'mere," He patted the area next to him, inviting her to lie beside him. She looked at him as she complied with his wish. He had as good as admitted that he _was_ sweet on her. He seemed to understand what she'd been saying about her own feelings. She winced a bit, as the side that was kicked by Oscar, the side she fell on, the side that got even worse when she was slammed against the wall, landed gingerly next to Race. Unfortunately, she was also facing him.

"So, you'se really _did_ get hurt taday," He stated. When she looked at him, his look wasn't proud or gloating, but sad and worried.

"I'se gonna be okay, Race. It's you I'm worried about. It's you who I've been worried about since ya saved me in da alley. I'se so 'appy right now, 'cause I t'ought I'd nevah get ta see dem brown eyes again, an' dat da last t'ing you'd heard me say was me tellin' ya ta shut up," She was tempted to kiss him, but with that busted lip, it probably wouldn't be a good idea. She was saved the resistance as Race leaned in and kissed her squarely on the lips. Her arms slid around his neck, while his fell around her waist, minding her injured side.

The feeling was beautiful to her. It felt both perfectly natural and perfectly heavenly at the same time. Right now, nothing else matter to her; not the Delancey brothers, not the other boys, not even Melody and Squirt could invade her thoughts right now. It was just Joker and Race. The two gamblers who everyone knew would be the perfect pair, if she'd just not be so stubborn.

He was too wrapped up in Joker to notice anything else. Not even the Delancey brothers (whom he wanted to soak _so_ bad right now for hurting her) could pull him away. She felt so soft, so beautiful to him. She was all he'd ever wanted. She was beautiful, a great gambler, smart, funny, stubborn, sarcastic, proud, argumentative, and so similar to him.

When they broke apart, she nestled her head into his chest. He kissed her forehead, ignoring the slight ache in his lip. He set his chin atop her head and they slowly drifted off into a comfortable sleep.

Meanwhile, outside the door, Squirt, Melody, and Kloppman listened interestedly. Turns out, old Kloppman was quite the actor. Race had been well on his way to recovery when Kloppman sent Joker in there. He was going to be fine by the New Year. The eavesdroppers smiled at each other as a peaceful silence fell upon the room. The boys had been back, but were told to keep it down and stay downstairs for the comfort of the injured boy. Ah, yes. The New Year would certainly bring many surprises.

A/n2: 4:30 A.M., and I'm finally done! I wanted to get this finished, because I was on such a roll. I love this chapter. Pardon me if Joker gets a little ramble-y, but I guess it can be blamed on her emotional state at the time. Hey, at least I'm getting better at the names. I think Joker's pretty darn good, if I do say so myself! By the by, did anyone notice the little similarites I put in between Joker and some of the things Race did in the movie?

Well, leave a nice review, if you please. Pardon any glitches, as I still have yet to go to bed.


	4. Mush's Story

A/n: Okay, soooo hyped off reviews right now. I thought I'd give myself a bit of a rest, but Mickeygee and NarniaRulz spurred me into action. I'm glad you guys liked Joker so much. She's definitely my favorite character so far. As to Race being in character, I'm a bit surprised that he was. Also, thanks for reviewing, Punky Princess 89! I don't think I'll be writing a Jack/Sarah chapter, though. This series is mostly for the guys who don't have girls yet. Oh well, time for Mush-yness!

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies. That's Disney's property right there, even though I wish I could own a few of them Smiles at the boys she's written about and is going to writing about. The song is not mine. It belongs to Tim McGraw and is called "Just to See You Smile".

Mush's Story

"_Just to see you smile,  
__I'd do anything  
__That you wanted me to.  
__When all is said and done,  
__I can't count the cost.  
__It's worth all that's lost,  
__Just to see you smile."_

_Tim McGraw_

Christina "Melody" Lucas was content. It was New Year's Eve, so celebration was in order for the newsies of Manhattan. She relaxed near the stairs, perfectly comfortable to watch one of her best friends, Squirt Pieterson, cuddling with her boyfriend, David Jacobs. Her other best friend, Joker McAllister, was easily heard in the din, arguing over the poker game, as was _her _boyfriend (and Melody's other best friend), Racetrack Higgins. She couldn't make out whether they were on the same side of the argument or not. Either way, they'd be okay.

Though she was content, it was a little lonely, sitting by herself. Many of the other girls were with their boyfriends, or potential boyfriends. The few who remained had little use for Melody. Being the romantic that she was, she didn't want to interfere with David and Squirt. She also had no real mind (or wallet) for poker. So, she waited. She knew, at some point, people would start clamoring for music, which would lead her and Racetrack from their seats.

Actually, music might not be an option, unless they just pushed Melody up to sing, which would scare her out of her mind. After all, Race's lip was still busted up from the fight he got into last night, protecting Joker from the Delanceys. She didn't think he could play his harmonica without being in pain.

While she sat there, musing on musical possibilities, someone came over and slid into the chair next to her.

"'Ey Melody. I'd give ya a penny for ya thoughts, but I just lost at pokah," Mush grinned at her. The little crooked grin he gave made Melody blush a bit.

"Ya don't gotta give me nuttin', Mush. All ya gotta do is ask," She smiled back, her blue eyes sparkling a bit.

"Fine den. What 'cha thinkin' 'bout, Mel?" He asked her. Her smile dropped and she looked away, trying to think of how to say this without sounding like she was complaining.

"Well, by comin' ova here, ya proved it wrong anyways. I was thinkin' that, since I doubt Race's gonna play tonight, I would probably be welcomin' da New Year in by meself. I mean, I'se not complainin' or nothin', 'cause Squirt and Davey are so cute togetha, and I'se been waitin' foreva ta see Jokah fin'lly give inta Race," This brought a chuckle out of Mush, while Melody kept talking, "But now, dey kinda left me to meself. I know dere's a tradition ta kiss ya sweet'eart as soon as it hits midnight, so I kinda undastand. Still, seein' ev'ryone togetha, it kinda makes ya a bit lonely, dat's all." She looked up at him, only to see Mush nodding in agreement. His honest brown eyes watched her as he spoke.

"I'se know exactly what ya talkin' 'bout. Felt da same way, last Valentine's Day. Saw all da oddah boys wit dates, so I sorta felt left out. My last goil had just broken up wit me," He sighed, "So, I'se just moped around. Latah, I thought about it, an' fig'red I'd just wasted a whole day by meself, just 'cause I was lonely. An' I decided ta nevah do dat again."

She gave a little smile and asked, "So, den what's ya plan for tonight? Ya just lost pokah, so I don't think ya gonna be playin' that again tonight." He leaned back in his chair and thought a minute before answering.

"Well, I wanted ta show off a few new moves, but foist of all, most of the good goils are taken now," Melody took that to mean Joker and Squirt, because they were some of the better dancers, "and second of all, it don't sound like dere's going to be any music," he gave Melody a small smile, "So, I guess dat leaves me to find someone ta talk ta. Oh look! You're 'ere, so we might as well talk." Playing around, he acted like he'd just seen her. She laughed, and pushed a lock of bright blonde hair out of her face.

"Well, since no one else plays, I guess I'll have ta talk ta someone. So I guess I'm stuck with ya, and you're stuck with me," She grinned back at him.

She'd never really talked this much around anyone other than Squirt, Race, and Joker. Slowly, she'd begun to accept Mush as well. He seemed to care about her. Like yesterday, for example, he'd come over to make sure she was okay after the Delanceys had harassed her, Squirt and Joker. He'd let her share a selling spot with him a few times, meaning they had a few good conversations, once they'd both gotten over their initial shyness toward each other.

She wasn't entirely sure what she thought about him. He seemed so sweet and gentle, but looks could be deceiving. She wanted to believe he was as he seemed, which was almost gentlemanly compared to the other newsies. Still, the disillusionment that was a poor childhood in New York City wouldn't let her believe that he could be her knight-in-newsies-clothing, like Race had been to Joker. Could he really care for her? Her modesty wouldn't let her think that this handsome boy might actually be sweet on her.

Mush wanted to think that maybe, just maybe, she might like him as he liked her. He thought she was beautiful, with her blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She had a shy smile and manner, similar to his, that made her absolutely adorable. She was gentle and unassuming, with a soft, musical voice that proved her singing voice present even when she spoke. To him, she was an angel, one not to be pushed around or forced into anything. This was why he took his time with her. He wanted her to be comfortable with him, and never worry that he would hurt her. Because he never would.

"Well, ain't this funny? We said we'd talk, yet we're sittin' here, just thinkin'," She giggled a bit at this.

Mush cracked a smile and replied, "I think dat, sometimes, when ya really comf'table wit someone, ya can just _do_ dat. Just sit dere and think, wit out worryin' dat dey'll think you're weird,"

Melody nodded, "Makes sense ta me, Mush. I guess that means we're comf'table with each oddah. Then again, that's not much 'a a surprise." They smiled at each other, just happy to be together.

"'Ey'a, Mush! 'Ow's it goin'?" Kid Blink asked, sidling over to the pair, surprisingly without a girl on his arm.

"It's fine, Blink. Just talkin' wit Mel. Ya think Race'll be up ta playin' music tonight?" Mush asked his best friend, a little wary of Blink at the moment. His outgoing nature would probably scare Melody back into the shell he'd hoped for her to be out of tonight.

"'Ello, dere, Mel. An' 'ow're you'se doin' tanight?" Blink tried to be on his best behavior. Knowing Mush as he did, he knew when his best friend was serious about a girl. Just because he had gotten himself on a couple of the other newsies' bad sides (he now admitted to being tactless about Squirt, so he no longer blamed Dutchy and Specs), doesn't mean he wanted to get on Mush's bad side for scaring off his girl.

"I'm fine, Blink," She began to get shy again.

"An' Mush, I'se t'ink Race'll play fa us, if we ask 'im nicely an' get Jokah ta 'elp us out. Do ya t'ink I'se can talk ta ya fa a sec?" Blink jerked his head away. Mush looked between Melody and his best friend. She nodded at him.

"Okay, buddy. I'll be right back, Mel," Mush gave a slightly apologetic look to her. He'd wanted to spend the evening with her. However, his best friend wasn't one to be ignored.

"'Ey man. Ya gonna try tanight?" Blink asked him as they got to the other side of the room.

"Ya know dat ansa as well as I do, Blink. If she seems ta wanna kiss me, den midnight it 'tis. If not, den I'se got a brand new year ta show 'er I'se sweet on 'er," Mush shrugged, hoping that the former would be his lot.

"Foine, den. So why'd ya ask 'bout Race?" Blink questioned.

"Well, since Squirt an' Davey got togetha, an' since Race fin'lly landed his Jokah last night, she sorta thought she'd be left out. Ya know da goil loves 'er music, but she won't sing 'less Race plays. She's really shy. So, I'se gonna try an' get 'im ta play. Gonna join me?" Mush began heading towards the poker table. Blink caught up quickly.

They got over there, luckily, just as a hand had ended. Pushing through the crowds, they got to their Italian friend's side. Of course, right next to him, to their other side, was his new girl, Joker.

"'Ey dere, ol' buddy!" Mush grinned. Race just paused the next hand.

"C'mon, Mush. Tell me what ya want. Ya ain't gonna play, 'cause ya outta money. So ya gotta want somet'in'," He turned to ask his friend.

"Well, I'se was just wond'rin' if ya gonna play tanight?" Mush asked him.

"If ya mean pokah, I'se already am. If ya mean music… I dunno, boy. I ain't sure if I can put my lip up ta it," He replied. Mush looked over to Joker and already found Blink giving her the reason why. Mush grinned at his best friend. Blink smiled at him after he gave a final nod to Joker.

"C'mon, Race. You'll be foine," Joker smiled at him, "Ya know it won't hurt too much. Anyways, it'll get Mel outta 'er corner." Race looked at her for a sec, looked back at his friends, who were eagerly nodding their agreement, then looked back at his girl.

"Alright, alright. Anyt'in' fa you, beautiful. I'll play. Let Mel know we'se goin up afta dis last hand," Rage sighed, turning back to the table. As Mush and Blink walked away they thought they heard Joker tell Race something like, "It was Mush's idea…"

"How much did ya tell 'er, Blink?" Mush asked worriedly. Joker was one of Melody's best friends. He wasn't sure if letting her know that he was sweet on Mel was among the best of ideas.

"Not much. I told 'er Mel 'ad been sittin' off ta da side most 'a da night, dat you'se 'ad been talkin' to 'er, and dat she'd said she wouldn't sing wit out Race," Blink then paused thoughtfully, "oh, yeah, I'se might 'a mentioned somet'in' 'bout ya bein' sweet on 'er. Have fun!" He grinned quickly, then disappeared in the crowd, leaving Mush to finish the walk back to Melody alone.

"'Ey, Mush. Everythin' alright with Blink?" She asked him as he sat down.

"Yeah, he's fine. Say Mel," Mush started to say, "Ya wanted ta sing, right?"

"Sure. But Race ain't gonna play. He's too hurt," She shrugged, then it hit her, "Did you get him to play?" Mush nodded. "How?!" The smile on her face wiped away the embarrassment he'd felt upon knowing Blink had told Joker.

"Blink, Jokah an' I talked 'im inta it. 'E said ta be ready, 'cause ya up afta da hand dere playin' now," He replied.

"Thanks Mush. That was really sweet of ya," Mel blushed a bit, which caused Mush to blush as well.

"Aw, it was nothin' Mel. Singin's da way ya shine. Ya really good," He tried to brush it off. Suddenly, Mush heard Race call over the crowd.

"'Ey Mel, where are ya? I finished up dis hand quick, so we could get a couple songs in 'fore midnight!"

"Dat's ya cue," Mush smiled at her. Suddenly, she looked nervous.

"Mush? Do ya think you could come up with me? Maybe just stand nearby? I'se kinda nervous," She bit her lip and looked down. He put a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes jolted up to meet his chocolate ones.

"Sure. It's no problem, Mel," He stood up and offered her his hand. She took it and walked with him towards the side of the room where they always performed. They got over there just as Race looked about ready to come over there and find her himself.

"Dere ya are! 'Bout time! Let's get dis show on da road," Race grinned as he pulled his ever-present harmonica out of his pocket. Mel smiled and joined him on the boxes they used for a platform. Mush leaned against the wall next to Joker, who watched Race with a smile.

"So, when'd dis 'appen, Mush?" She asked him as the two performers began the show.

"I dunno. She always seemed kinda like an angel ta me. She's beautiful, funny, smart, talented, and sweet. I t'ink I've liked 'er for a long time, but didn't really figure it out 'til a couple weeks ago, ya know?" Mush smiled as he thought of Melody and her sweet smile.

"Trust me, I know. Took me almost losin' 'im 'for I knew it," Joker sighed as she took in Race's bruised face.

"'Ey Jokah," She looked over at him, "I'se can tell ya right now, Race don't regret fightin' da Delanceys, even if dey did bruise 'im up. It got 'im you."

"I know, I know. Still, I jus' wish dey didn't hurt 'im so much," Joker tried to regain her pleasant countenance, "But now, we'se got somet'in else ta t'ink about. How ya plan on gettin' Mel?"

"Uh… I'se fig'red I'd wait 'til midnight, den, if she wanted ta kiss me, I'd kiss 'er. If not, I'se got a goal dis year, den," Mush blushed a bit, then itched the back of his neck.

"I don't t'ink ya gonna 'ave ta worry, Mush. I'se t'ink t'ings are gonna work out jus' fine," Joker gave a little smirk at him, then jerked her head towards the duo before them.

Mush turned to look, and saw Melody looking right at him. She had a big smile on her face, her eyes glowing with happiness. This was the look that he always loved. She looked so beautiful right then, he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her. However, he didn't want to scare her off.

He watched her throughout the rest of that song, and into the next one. Finally, at the end of their second song, Race called it quits.

"Nah, nah. It's practic'lly midnight anyways, you'se guys. Let's start da countdown," He insisted, climbing off the boxes (with Joker's help). Melody began to climb down as she normally did, but found Mush's hand being offered instead.

"Ya did great. I don't know why you'se was so nervous," He whispered to her after she was back on ground level. She just smiled at him. Neither one noticed they were still holding hands. They looked at the clock and saw there were twenty seconds left until midnight.

"Thanks so much, Mush. For ev'rything," She looked up at him, eyes still sparkling.

"So long as it makes ya smile like dat, I don't mind," He smiled back at her. She pulled him into a hug. It was probably the boldest move she'd ever made with a guy. He wrapped his arms around her in kind. Around them, they could hear the others crying out around them "TEN!"

Melody thought about the young man who held her right now, the one who she felt that, perhaps, she could actually count on. She thought that maybe, just maybe, she actually _had_ found her knight. It was a wonderful feeling, to think that someone really cared about her, and not just as a friend.

Mush rested his cheek upon her golden hair and smiled. It felt amazing, holding her like this. As though maybe, for this one second, she was his. He could feel her heart beating against his. Her head fit so perfectly against his shoulder. It was as though they were meant to be. The surrounding crowd called "FIVE!"

They didn't want to let go. Neither one had felt so safe, warm, and happy before. Those weren't feelings that came around often in the life of a newsie, so they didn't want to give it up easily. "FOUR!"

Picking her head up (and causing him to move his), she looked him square in the eyes. "THREE!"

They didn't know who initiated it, but slowly, ever so slowly, they began moving towards each other. "TWO!"

Their lips were so close… almost touching… "ONE!"

"'APPY NEW YEAH!" The cry rang out from all sides of the lodging house. People were hugging each other and laughing, grateful to have gotten through another year. Race pulled Joker into a nice long kiss, as had David done with Squirt. Jack and Sarah had already been in a little make-out session for a while. Oh, and Mush and Melody?

At the stroke of midnight, their lips met. Melody quickly relaxed into her first kiss, feeling surprisingly confident and supremely happy. Mush, an experienced kisser, had never found a kiss feeling so perfect. Her lips were soft, warm, and sweet; just like the rest of her. His wishes and prayers had been granted, leaving him blessed with this angel before him.

They broke apart. Resting his forehead against hers, their eyes met. For a second, Mush wondered if he had imagined her response to his kiss. Until she broke into a giant grin. He responded in kind. This was one of those rare moments in a newsie's life. They were both totally, utterly, perfectly, and completely happy.

A/n2: Okay, how do ya think it went? I think it's either kind of rushed or kind of rambling. This story was surprisingly tough to finish. I dunno. I guess I just didn't know what to do with Mush. Ah, well.

Please, tell me if you like it. If you do, I'll end up jumping and dancing around the room. I was when the first reviews came in for Race's story.

Well, I don't know if I'll have the next two stories (one for Specs and the other for Dutchy) up by Valentine's Day. I'm working on two shows at the same time (one I'm co-costuming and the other I'm acting in), and I have classes to take, so my time may be a bit limited.

A little tidbit of trivia about this chapter: I was going to use "I'll Be" by Edwin McCain for the song. However, with the way I portrayed Mush, "Just to See You Smile" fit better. Give it a listen, if you can!


	5. Specs' Story

A/n: Wow! Is this story really so popular that, in the amount of time I'm in a class, I get two reviews that are so great! Mickeygee, I still thank you about a million times over. Thanks for the praises, Punky Princess 89. NarniaRulz, I am soooo glad to see that there're other costumers here. We work hard and don't get the same recognition, right? Thanks for the boost of confidence in Mush's story, you guys. This time, it's Specs' turn for some love.

Disclaimer: I don't own the newsies. They're Disney's property. As to the song, that's not mine either. It belongs to John Berry and goes by the title "She's Taken a Shine"

Specs' Story

"_She's taken a shine to life  
Now's there a sparkle in her eye  
They all missed a gem _

_A diamond within  
She's taken a shine."_

_John Berry_

Anne "Crash" Black was not your typical girl. She was known to be one of the biggest tomboys out of the newsgirls in Manhattan. Her long, dark brown hair was wrapped up into a bun and stuffed beneath her black cap everyday. She mostly hung out with the boys, and could hold her own in a fight quite well. She had two best friends who were boys, who went by the names of Specs Lawrence and Dutchy Pieterson.

She had another best friend as well, a girl known as Royal Thompson. They were as different as you could get. Royal was a total girly girl. She flirted with the boys and did her hair as nice as she could. She always needed someone to protect her in fights. How she'd survived so long in the rough world of the newsies was a mystery to Crash.

However, they complemented each other. Where Royal was weak, Crash was strong. Where Crash was clumsy, Royal was graceful. The places Royal didn't fit in; Crash (pardon the pun) fell right in place. The times Crash was bashful, Royal was confident.

Crash's only problem with her tomboy status was that she was so much 'one of the guys' that she was never _really_ noticed as a girl. They had no qualms talking about their dates around her, or even directly _to_ her. It wasn't a problem for most of her time as a newsie. The boys were her friends, but she never really thought any of them could be _more_.

She watched, with no qualms, Dutchy's little sister Squirt (whom she looked on as a little sister of her own, from afar) get together with Davey. She cheered, like the rest who had seen it coming eventually, when Joker gave in to dear old Race's affection. She had a grin on when she saw Mush and Melody sharing their first kiss at midnight on New Year's Eve. She waited up for Royal whenever she went out with a boy, even if it only meant getting a couple hours of sleep.

It was the beginning of February 1901 when Crash finally felt the toll of this. She'd felt, over the past couple weeks (though, if she was being honest with herself, it was the past couple months), a sort of different feeling around one of her best friends. Of course, Specs was entirely unaware of this. He treated her just the same as ever, therefore just the same as the other guys.

She wasn't entirely sure how or why it began. She supposed it just happened like that sometimes: if a girl is close friends with a guy, that girl might eventually fall for that guy or vice versa. At first Crash just noticed it more when he grabbed her hand, or when he patted her on the back, than she did with the other guys, more than she had before. Slowly, his laugh began to make her stomach do flips. She started to trip up more around him, over both her feet and her tongue. When he smiled at her, she felt a little lighter. She always wanted to smile when she was around him.

She wondered what she could do different. Let her hair down? But then the wind would blow it into her mouth when she was hawking her headlines. Flirt? She didn't know how. She had no dressy things, so dressing up was out of the question. Not to mention, she was too embarrassed to ask Royal, Squirt, Joker, Melody, or any of the other girls what to do. Bringing the subject up to Dutchy or any of the other guys was impossible/awkward/odd, and therefore out of the question. She just wanted Specs to actually notice _her_, as she was. She didn't want to have to change.

At about a week before Valentine's Day that year, she found herself hovering around the girls' bunkroom. Catching her reflection in the window, she took a look at herself. With her hair up and under her hat, she had only the slightest hint of femininity. Her hazel eyes were a bit saddened as she scanned her reflection, looking for some sign of actual beauty.

Finding none for the moment, she changed things up. She let her hair down and set her hat back atop the chocolate locks. Now, _this_ appeared much better. The hair softened the sharp angles of her cheeks and nose. She liked the look this gave her. It was impractical, but it looked nice.

"Nice look, Crash," She spun around, only to find a smirk on the face of Royal, who was sitting on her bed right behind her, "Ya really might wanna t'ink 'bout keepin' it. 'E may like it." At this, Royal moved past and began to primp in the window, so Crash moved over to sit down instead

"What 'cha talkin' 'bout, Royal?" Crash asked nervously, fiddling slightly with her newly released hair. Had Royal actually figured it out? Was she really that obvious? Royal laughed.

"Da only reason a goil would sit dere an' make 'erself look pretty is 'cause she wants ta impress one 'a da guys," Royal fluffed her bushy, light brown hair and smiled at the reflection of her and her best friend, "So, who is it dat fin'lly made da tomboy turn goil?" She turned around and leaned against the window frame.

"Royal! Dere ain't no guy!" As Crash continued to protest, her cheeks betrayed her by flaming pink. This lead to Royal giving her a skeptical look.

"Really? Why, den?"

'Well… uh… I…" Crash stumbled for something to say, something that would pull her rear out of the fire. Royal just snickered.

"Ezactly! I'se knew it was a boy! So, which one?" Crash sighed. She should've realized it would be impossible to get something like this past Royal.

"Foine, foine. If ya insist. I… I like Specs," She whispered, then ducked her head and hid her eyes with the brim of her cap. She didn't want to see Royal laugh, even if she couldn't help hearing it. But she didn't hear it. Instead, she heard movement. Crash looked up to see Royal sitting next to her. The smile on her face was almost motherly.

"Dat's so cute. Ya in love wit ya best friend," Royal patted her on the back softly.

"I ain't in love wit 'im! I just like 'im!" Crash insisted, almost petulantly.

"Yeah, yeah, sure kid. Now, let's see 'ow we can fix ya up," Royal pulled her friend to her feet and began to circle her slowly, "Well, ya gotta keep ya hair down, foistly. Maybe, if we could get ya a dress, or a skoit or somet'in', it should make 'im notice." Crash winced noticeably at this. She hated skirts and dresses, both because she was clumsier than normal in them, and because she couldn't fight as well in them.

"Ah, don't worry kiddo. It ain't as if I'se askin' ya ta sell in it or nothin'. I'se just sayin' dat, maybe, if ya wear one every so oft'n, when ya hangin' out wit da boys afta sellin', 'e might see ya as a goil," Royal assured her, walking towards the trunk where most of the girl kept their 'nice' clothes. Some of them would change into these 'girlier' clothes after selling, while others only wore them when Medda was holding a big gathering at the theater. Being the tomboy, Crash owned nothing in that trunk. Royal, though, had a fair few items.

"Well, let's see. Maybe a skoit or two, an' a dress fo' da party at Medda's tamarra," Royal opened the trunk and began to sift through the contents of it. Crash followed her best friend, with a curiosity that betrayed her.

Within the trunk, pieces of material lay in all sizes and colors. All of the fancier clothes were smaller, having come from the few young runaways of higher class backgrounds. That which would fit Crash, being the second eldest of the girls (Royal was a couple months older), were simpler pieces, mostly donated by nuns from the same order as those who gave them bread and coffee each morning. She observed this fact gladly, since she didn't want too many frills or anything. Plain was fine with her.

After picking through just about every single piece in the trunk, Royal finally emerged from the folds of cloth holding something dark blue, something dark green, and something cream colored.

"I fig'red you'se wouldn't wanna wear anyt'in' too bright. Dese're really simple, but dey'll make ya look like a goil," Royal told her, leading her back over to their shared bunk. There, she spread them out. One skirt was the dark blue thing she'd seen in Royal's arm, and the dark green piece was another. The cream piece, when laid out, was actually very pretty. It had a very small touch of embroidery around the collar, with long, straight sleeves. It flared out slightly past the waist. Crash was surprised to find herself _liking_ this girly item.

"Well, let's see ya try 'em on!" Royal picked up the dark blue skirt and tossed it to Crash. The dark-haired newsie hurried to switch from her boyish breeches into this foreign territory. Living as they did, no one bothered with privacy. So, in no time, she had the skirt on. Or, rather, she had it as 'on' as it would go.

"Sorry, Royal. Dis one's too small," Crash muttered sheepishly. Royal just shrugged and handed her the dark green one instead. As she switched between the pieces of clothing, it hit her that she was really doing this. She was really doing something that might change her, just to get Specs to actually notice her. Was she insane? Was she a total turncoat on her own morals? Or was she just growing up? After all, she actually _liked_ the dress, but because it looked pretty, not for any ulterior motive. The green skirt slid on easily, and fit rather well.

"Dat looks really nice on ya, Crash. C'mon, ya can wear it when we go downstairs. Right now, ya gotta try on dis dress," Royal held it up as though it were made of glass. Crash complied, slipping out of what she was wearing and into the pretty little dress. Though it was only made of simple cloth, the material felt like silk against her rough skin. Turning to face Royal, her best friend gasped.

"Crash...," Royal whispered, a smile slipping onto her face. Instead of telling her why she had such a reaction, Royal just led her to the window. The sight in the darkened glass almost made Crash want to cry.

The dress looked perfect on her. She looked like a girl, and a pretty one at that (considering that Royal had snatched her hat off when they got to the mirror). The dress complimented what little feminine figure she had, and set off the dark shade of her hair just right. The tears that almost stung her eyes were tears of sheer happiness and disbelief, that this could really be her.

"Alright, c'mon, now. Let's get ya back into da skoit. We need ta save dat fa' tamarra night. Ya can have ya hat back. C'mon, Crash, let's move!" Royal was already bustling about, putting the blue skirt away. Slowly, Crash came back to reality and gently removed the pretty dress, draping it on the edge of her bed. She changed into the skirt and her black shirt, and put her hat back on. Even in semi-normal clothing, she noticed a bit more prettiness about her. It was odd, but a good kind of odd.

"C'mon, Crash! If ya keep lookin' at yaself like dat, you'll nevah give _'im_ a chance ta!" Royal laughed. She grabbed her best friend's hand and began to lead her out of the room. Suddenly, Crash stopped.

"Royal… I… I dunno if I'se can do dis. I mean, what if 'e don't notice?" Crash shrank back toward the edge of the room, away from the door.

"Crash, da boy may wear glasses, but dat don't mean 'e's completely blind," Royal giggled. At Crash's nervous and scared look, the elder girl softened, "Goil, ya look great. 'E's sure ta notice ya. So let's go!" The tomboy allowed herself to be dragged out the door. There, she found that she was required to walk. She did well most of the way down, until she tripped a couple steps up from the bottom.

There was a reason for her nickname. Crash was quite the klutz, and a crash was often her entrance. This evening was no exception, unfortunately.

Everyone looked up, but only two ran over to help. Dutchy and Specs knew the only newsie who ever made such an entrance was their best friend, even if it didn't look like her in that skirt, with her hair down. They pulled her up, as they had scores of times before. Only this time, Specs didn't let go of her hand right away. He stared at her for a couple seconds before finally regaining his wits, closing his gaping mouth, and dropping her hand.

Most of the people in the room turned their attention back to the poker table, except for two. Still on the stairs, Royal smirked at them. To her, this looked perfect. Dutchy, who was also looking on, suddenly noticed what could be a shift in the relationships around him. Being the ever-observant one, he had seen Crash's crush on Specs before this, but the guy himself was just a little too thick to get it. He just hoped that Specs would finally see her as a girl, before she gave up on him.

"Ya…ya look nice, Crash," Specs seemed to stammer a bit. He'd never seen her in a skirt before. Hell, he'd never seen her looking like a _girl_ before! It made sense he would be thrown a bit off balance.

"T'anks Specs," She blushed, with a small smile sliding onto her face. It was a rather endearing look, one that wasn't normally the kind you'd see on Crash's face. She was often as brash and loud as the boys, but this was a different kind of Crash.

"C'mon, wanna play?" He said, gesturing to the poker table. She often would join them, even though she wasn't all that good at the game.

"Yeah, let's go," She smiled a bit more normally, a wider grin, one that was accompanied by more of a twinkle in her eye.

He led her into the circle around the table. The hand had just finished, sending Kid Blink out of the game. Crash slid into his seat and Specs took up a place behind her. Royal, who had come downstairs, was watching in the group not far away. Dutchy had taken up a spot in the crowd around the table.

"Glad ya could join us tanight, Crash. Quite da entrance, dough," Race laughed.

Joker shot him a look, but turned and smiled at Crash, "'Ey, Crash. Ya okay? Dat fall looked kinda rough."

"Don't worry yaself, Jokah. I'se done worse," The brunette shrugged it off as nothing. Specs' hand landed on her shoulder, and she smiled a little, "So, you'se guys gonna deal me in, or what?"

They played for a little bit, until Crash decided to get out before she lost too much money. There was no beating Joker, Race, and Jack. It was a fact. It was like saying that Race and Snipeshooter would get into an arguement each morning. It was like saying that Les hero-worshipped Jack. It was like saying David sometimes didn't know when to keep his mouth shut. It was like Jack and Sarah, like David and Squirt, like Joker and Race, like Spot and Dreamer, like Melody and Mush...

Like what she wanted to believe that she and Specs could be. A fact. Something that people would know was true, without even asking or speaking. Just something that simple, yet real.

Crash slipped outside for a bit of fresh air. The chill on her legs from the airyness of the skirt caused her to shiver a little. It surprised her that no one noticed the change other than Specs, as far as she knew. She leaned against the wall and looked up at the stars. Now _that_ was a beauty unsurpassed, to her. Nothing could be more beautiful than a clear, starry, winter's night. She heard laughter inside, and chuckled softly to herself. It was probably just Squirt and Dutchy doing their typical comedy act. She swore those two should go into Vaudeville. They'd be about as popular as Medda.

She was so wrapped in thought she didn't hear someone open the door. It wasn't until she felt a presence by her side that she even noticed that there was someone else out there with her. She tensed, then looked to see who it was. Sure enough, Specs stood at her side, watching her with a thoughtful look.

"Ya okay tanight, Crash?" He asked her, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"I'se okay. Why? Somet'in' seem wrong?" She asked, a bit of a smile on her face.

"Nah, it's just... ya actin' diff'rent. Ya quieter, ya let ya hair down, an' ya wearin' a skoit," He looked down a bit, almost seeming... nervous, was it? She shrugged.

"Just felt like doin' somet'in' diff'rent. I guess no one really noticed, dough," She watched him carefully. She wasn't the only one not acting like themselves, tonight. Maybe she'd just caught him off-guard with her switch.

"I... I noticed. Don't dat count?" He asked, looking back up at her.

"Yeah, but I'se t'ink ya da only one. Royal don't count, 'cause she was da one dat picked out da skoit," She paused for a moment, "If ya da only one dat noticed, den what da ya t'ink. Do I look okay?" She felt her breath catch for a moment as he took in the look. His brown eyes were another beautiful thing to her. They were so full of mischief sometimes, while so caring at others. Ah, who was she kidding? Tomboy though she may be, Crash was just one big old softy at heart.

"I t'ink ya look really nice. I nevah t'ought I'd see da day you'd wear a skoit, but it suits ya," He smiled at her, which caused her to relax into one as well.

"'Ey, don't t'ink I'se gonna be wearin' dis all da time. I'se not wearin' dis get-up while I'se sellin'. Just, maybe, sometimes, like when we get back, or when we go ta Medda's," She tried to add a little comedy, but it mostly came out thoughtful.

"So, you'se dressin' up fa Medda's tamarra?" He asked her. She thought she saw a little excitement flare in his eyes, but wasn't too sure.

"A bit. Royal found somet'in' she wants me ta wear," She conveniently left out the bit about her loving the dress.

"Well… ah… do ya need an escort? Ta keep da Delanceys away, 'a course," He was quick to add in that last part. Of course, now that offer was a perfectly legitimate reason, after the way the Delancey boys had attacked Joker a month ago. Still, she hoped it was for another reason, a more personal one.

"Well, ya know I'se can 'old my own in a fight, Specs. I ain't one who really needs protectin'," She tried to argue, but he had a reasoning even against that.

"So could Jokah. An' besides, ya ain't used ta fightin' in a skoit. You'd be at a disadvantage," Crash sighed at his arguments. He was perfectly right, of course. Ever since the newsies had attacked them after they had ambushed Joker and Race, the Delanceys were even more vicious and taunting towards the newsgirls.

"Alright, alright. I'se don't really feel much like gettin' in a fight anyways. I'll go wit ya ta Medda's tamarra night, an' back, if ya behave yaself!" She finished with a grin. Specs laughed. She knew she had nothing to fear with him. He'd protect her, if she couldn't fight. A shudder ran through her at the thought of Specs being in the state Race was when Joker brought him in that night. Well, that and because they were standing outside in early February.

"Ya cold?" He asked her, regaining a bit of seriousness (though he was still smiling). She nodded, so he put an arm around her shoulders, "We bettah go inside, else Dutch an' Royal'd be out 'ere draggin' us back in." They slipped inside, only to be met almost right away by their aforementioned best friends. Specs' arm quickly dropped to his side.

"Where've you'se two been? We was just about to go get ya! It's 'bout time ta turn in fa da night, if we all wanna be up ta sell tamarra," Royal said, almost in exasperation. Dutchy just rolled his eyes at her dramatics. They started on the path up to the bunkrooms

"Well, den, we'se bettah get ta bed, right guys?" Crash laughed.

They weren't the only ones still making the most of the night. Ahead of them she saw a few people blocking the area in front of the girls' bunkroom. Joker and Race were having a bit of an argument (that, of course, no one knew the origins of), but both sides had a smile on their faces, so the banter would probably end in a good night kiss. Mush, exaggerating a bit, leaned down in a dramatic swoop and kissed Melody's hand. She giggled as he stood up, then pulled him in for a good night kiss. Squirt leaned against the doorframe, waiting for her friends, since she had long since said her goodnights to David when he'd left for home a few hours ago. Sure enough, as they reached the top of the stairs, Joker pulled Race in for a kiss. Apparently, Race must've held it a bit longer than she planned, because she had a kind of goofy smile on her face as she turned him around and pushed him towards the boys' room. Melody and Mush parted only a couple minutes after, and the girls went inside, leaving Dutchy, Royal, Specs, and Crash on the landing.

"G'night, goils," Dutchy grinned at them, then headed in the same direction as Race and Mush.

"'Night Dutchy!" Royal called after him, then turned to the bowler-bedecked boy next to her best friend, "'Night Specs." To Crash, she just gave a look that spoke so many gossiping volumes that the younger one knew she was going to get a grilling as soon as she went inside.

"G'night, Royal," Specs replied a little absentmindedly. That was when Crash realized that she was now alone out here with him. She'd figured that Royal and Dutchy must've planned this while she and Specs were outside.

"Well… um… I guess dis is g'night, eh Specs?" She murmured, knowing that Royal was probable just behind the now-closed door, listening to every word they were saying. She was staring nervously at the floor, fully aware of how different she must look right now. She must look every bit the demure little girl at the moment.

"Yeah, I guess," He replied on a similar vocal level. Just as she turned to go in the room, though, a hand reached out to stop her, "'Ey, Crash?" She turned around to him. There was something different in his voice right now, "Would ya mind if I tried somet'in'?" The way he was asking, how he seemed so hesitant, it was almost as though… no, she had to be imagining it…. Right now didn't seem the time for verbal answers, so she just slowly shook her head, giving permission.

Moving slower than, and as hesitantly as, some of the younger newsies through Brooklyn; Specs leaned in towards his best friend. Finding herself almost mesmerized by his slow movement, she didn't realize her own slight movement in response to the expectations she subconsciously held.

What felt like both an hour and a second in one passed before their lips met. It was almost as though a jolt of lightning buzzed through Specs at that moment. This was his best friend? No, she had to be more than just that. She had to be so much more, to confound him like that as soon as he realized she was a girl. It was as though this night had been a slap upside the head, telling him what was in front of him all this time, and now he was finally making a right move.

To Crash, it felt like she was floating. She'd never been kissed before. It was an experience like no other though, and she was certain, later, that this kiss was the one thing she had that none of Royal's could compare to. She felt like she could do anything right now, like she could take on the Delanceys, Weasel, Pulitzer, _and_ Hearst, all in one go.

They broke apart, each surprised at what had just taken place. They just looked at each other for a couple moments, each one studying a face they knew so well, yet wondering if there was anything they may have missed in their past casual observations. Slowly, a grin slid onto Crash's face, then another one appeared on Specs and both of them relaxed. He pulled her into a tight hug, then placed a kiss atop her head. She looked up, and kissed him this time. It took a lot less time to start than the first, but was just as sweet and effective as the first.

When they broke from the second kiss, it was for the night. She rested in his arms and whispered, "Sweet dreams, Specs."

He smiled lovingly down at her, "Sweet dreams, Crash." Somehow, she managed to move away from his warm embrace and slip into the bunkroom, leaving a surprised, yet happy Specs in her wake. When he was in the boys' bunkroom, he thought he heard a muted squeal that sounded like Royal and smiled even wider.

The only words Crash gave her waiting friend were the ones Royal had been hoping to hear after she and Dutchy had left them alone. After getting ready for bed and climbing into the upper bunk, Crash whispered something for Royal's ears alone.

"He kissed me!"

A/n2: Well, it's finally up, but not in the time I'd wanted it to be. I realized this morning that I'd forgotten to do some homework; otherwise this would probably have been up by midnight. This is another story that originally had one song, but was switched towards the end. The first song was "Come Away with Me" by Norah Jones, but this worked better. The current song's a late 80's, early 90's country song. Very good, very old-school.

Well, Dutchy's should be on its way in a few days, hopefully. After that, I may decide to follow a request I had for a newsie who's also on his own at the end of the movie. Also, start letting me know if you want a continuation/slightly-future-set fic from any of these.

Let me also take this minute to send a shout-out to my friend Risa, who I know is reading this because she told me at the meeting a little over 14 hours ago. Girl, if you're reading, review if you can!

Alright, I have to do the dishes and get to bed now. At least I wasn't up as late for this story as I was for Race's. Carry da banner!


	6. Dutchy's Story

A/n: All right! I actually made it to Dutchy's story without getting murdered by evil flamers! YAY! Well, I must thank Mickeygee again, for being my only reviewer. Tell your friend I just might end up writing that Skitts story. And thus a sextet shall be an octet. Well, at least that means people enjoy it!

I'm really sorry for the wait, but I've been swamped with rehearsals and classes and there's also the little fact that I couldn't write on my home computer, so I had to wait 'til I was at the college for the longest time. However, I'm finally done with my classes for the whole summer, so I intend to finish this, no matter how difficult Dutchy tries to be! Now, let's give our dear Dutchy a little bit of lovin'!

Disclaimer: I don't own the newsies. That claim belongs only to good old Disney. The song is from the Sleepless in Seattle soundtrack, and it's called "When I Fall In Love"

Dutchy's Story

"_When I give my heart  
__It will be completely  
__Or I'll never give my heart.  
__And the moment I can feel that  
__You feel that way too  
__Is when I'll fall in love with you."_

_Celine Dion and Clive Griffon_

It was one of those days. Not exactly the bad sort, just the busy sort. Everyone was scrambling to sell their papes, so they could get back to the lodging house to get ready. This sort of day happened whenever Medda was holding a get-together at Irving Hall for the newsies. The girls seemed especially eager to get back. Their excitement stemmed from the fact that being at Medda's encouraged the boys to dance, and to act at least a tiny bit romantic.

To Dutchy Pieterson, this was just another day. Well, maybe a fair bit more than that. He would finally get to see two of his best friends be happy together. You see, it was only the night before that he and Royal had put together a plan to get them together. From the look on Specs' face when he came in, it must've worked. However, this was slightly a bittersweet victory to him.

Getting Specs together with Crash was a good thing, but it left Dutchy basically alone. Now Specs, Mush, Race, Crash, and even his sister Squirt would have someone to be with: their sweetheart. Dutchy didn't have many friends around the lodging house besides those. Technically, most would say that he could hang out with some of the other boys, but he had his reasons for not doing so. Another option people would figure he would have would be to spend time with Royal, since she _was_, after all, Crash's best friend, the other half of the reason those two were together, and the last member of their little quartet. But he wasn't sure if she would want to hang out with him.

You see, to many of the boys, Royal was an odd sort. Yes, she was a girly-girl, but she almost never went out with the same guy twice. Some of the guys tried to claim that she was… well, morally loose. However, Dutchy didn't believe it. She'd never seemed to be one to act like that.

He'd known Royal for about as long as he'd known Specs and Crash. They all came to the lodging house within days of each other. Dutchy ran there first, with Squirt, after their normally abusive home had become deadly. A couple days later, Specs wandered in after he had lost his parents on a crowded street. The next day, the boys found Royal in the park, abandoned by parents who'd never wanted her. Two days after that, Crash had made her way in from a local orphanage.

The four had found fast companions in each other. Specs and Crash had obviously found something more as well. Dutchy, though, wasn't sure exactly what he felt when he was around Royal. It was weird. He found himself wanting to like her, but it seemed like there was always a sort of wall around her. It was like she never showed her true emotions about anything. She stayed guarded, shielding herself from… something. What exactly, Dutchy was never sure. Maybe that was the reason she flitted from relationship to relationship.

Well, everyone would be going to Medda's anyway. He was expected to, even if he wasn't Spot, or Jack, or David. There were still a few people who knew he was there, and would notice it if he wasn't. So, at least he had that much to be thankful for.

He and Specs sold out rather quickly that morning. It surprised Dutchy that his best friend hadn't sold with Crash. Maybe they just needed some time to figure things out. Come to think of it, Dutchy hadn't heard the story of exactly what happened last night.

"'Ey, man, why ya been so quiet taday?" Dutchy tried to be as general as he could, without leaving too much room to skirt the issue. The pair had started walking to Tibby's for a quick bite before they would head back to the lodging house.

"Ah, just somet'in' dat 'appened last night," Specs sighed a bit and adjusted his glasses.

"Ya wanna tell me 'bout it?" Dutchy asked, although he felt like he was prying.

"Okay, but only 'cause ya my best friend, oddah den Crash," He took a breath, "Well, ya know 'ow you an' Royal sent me out ta check on 'er?" Dutchy nodded, "Somet'in' made me ask 'er ta go ta Medda's wit me. An' she said yes! But dat's not all. Aftah both you an' Royal went ta bed… I can't believe I did dis… I kissed 'er, Dutch," Specs looked at his best friend. Finding him appropriately surprised, he continued, "I dunno why I did. I just felt like I should. I t'ink I like 'er. I really do. I know, I nevah noticed 'er before, but dat's 'cause she nevah acted like a goil before. Last night, dough… she was just so… It's like as soon as I'se seen 'er, letting' 'er hair down an' wearin' dat skoit, I realized what I'se been missin' out on," Specs was beginning to ramble. He did that sometimes, when he was having trouble communicating something.

"So, basically, you'se an' Crash got togedda last night?" Dutchy cut him off, summarizing as he always did when Specs wouldn't cut to the chase. Specs just smiled and nodded.

At that point, they turned the corner near Tibby's. Speak of the devil; Crash and Royal were heading up from the next block, probably going home to get ready. From the looks of it, the girls were in deep discussion, with Crash doing the most talking. Royal looked away and caught sight of the boys. She let the tomboy finish her sentence, then motioned toward them. Crash followed her motion and smiled, blushing lightly.

Dutchy saw, out of the corner of his eye, Specs give a similar smile in response. Flitting his eyes back to the girls, he saw Royal catch his eye. The look spoke loud and clear: _'Let's leave these two loveboids alone'._

Dutchy kept walking, not intending to stop and wait if Specs started to lag. Royal did the same. They met at the doorway, so he held open the door for her.

"T'anks, Dutchy. So, did ya hear 'bout what happened wit dem two last night?" She asked him when they got inside.

"Yeah, but prob'ly not as much as you did. I'se just happy 'e realized it 'fore it was too late," He continued to play the gentleman and pulled out a chair for her at the table.

"I'se dunno if she evah woulda given up on 'im. Wit da way she talks 'bout im, I'se t'inkin dey woulda got togedda sometime, but we just 'elped it along," She smiled and sat in the proffered chair. Dutchy sat across from her. Just as they were about to continue talking, the door opened and the new couple themselves walked in. Specs acted as gentlemanly as his best friend had, and pulled out a chair for her… at a different table.

"I'd say we'se should join dem, but I don' wanna intrude. Do you?" Dutchy asked her.

"I don't t'ink we should. We'se did enough meddlin'. Time ta let dem do dere own doity work," Royal chuckled softly, "So, what ya gonna do tanight? Gonna play third wheel ta dem?" Dutchy took off his cap and ran a hand through his blond hair.

"I don' wanna interfere again. I guess I'se just gonna be by meself tanight," He sighed slightly and shrugged. A waitress came over and took their usual orders.

"Ya know, ya don't gotta be by yaself. Ya could always join me," She suggested casually. She seemed almost as though she was _trying_ to act off-hand, but not fully pulling it off.

"Really? Ya don't already 'ave a guy ta take ya?" This surprised him, because she was often one of the first girls with an escort for the evening.

"Nah, not dis time," Royal shrugged, but didn't elaborate on this. See what he meant by 'a sort of wall around her'?

"T'anks. Dat means a lot," He grinned at her, and she smiled in return. He thought he saw something flicker across her gray eyes, but it was hidden by her normal mask too quickly for him to interpret.

The rest of the time was spent talking about little things, like how they sold that morning. This was actually the most time they had spent together, without Specs or Crash, in quite a while. Dutchy found himself smiling a lot around her. When they'd finished and paid, they looked up to find their best friends gone already.

"Well, I'se guess we'll find dem back at home," He shrugged, holding open the door for Royal as they left.

"Ya know, dis was a lotta fun, Dutch. I'se don't know why we'se stopped hangin' out like dis," She smiled at him.

"I dunno eider, Royal. Maybe we just got so used ta hangin' out wit Specs an' Crash dat we didn't t'ink ta spend time wit just da two 'a us," Dutchy reflected. He had never intentionally stopped hanging out with just her. Crash and Specs were just always around.

"So, I'se guess we'll be spendin' a lot more time togedda, eh?" She laughed a little.

"Well, if we'se don't wanna intrude an' we don't wanna be alone… I guess we will," He smiled at her. They walked in silence for a while, before she asked something she'd always wondered.

"So, why do ya nevah 'ave a goil ta bring ta Medda's? Don't t'ink I ain't noticed," Royal looked up at him, waiting for an answer. Dutchy took his time, trying to figure out what to say and how to say it.

"Well, I'se guess it's just 'cause I'd nevah had a goil. I ain't like some 'a dah odder boys, da ones who'd 'ave a goil just fa da sake 'a havin' one. I'se gotta really care 'bout a goil, an' know she cares 'bout me, 'fore I'll ask 'er," This little explanation was given with some halting. He'd never had to explain his reasoning before. To say that he was a gentleman was as much of a fact as saying that Specs, Crash and Royal were his best friends. It was known and never questioned.

If this surprised Royal at all, she didn't show it. She fiddled a bit with the ends of her light brown ponytail in thought. The wall seemed to be back up. To try and snap her out of it, he did what he'd do to Squirt when she got too serious. He reached over and snatched the black-and-white cap she always wore while selling, then laughed as he ran off with it.

"DUTCHY!" She laughed, hurrying after him. She didn't stand much of a chance of catching up. He not only had a head start, but also had longer legs. Their laughter echoed through the streets they ran down, amusing many of the older people and some of the adults. Some of the children laughed with them, a few of the girls being brave enough to cheer on Royal.

When she reached the lodging house, Dutchy had already beaten her there. He stood outside the door, twirling her hat on one finger. She paused for a second, catching her breath. The sight made Dutchy pause himself. She looked so naturally beautiful, a ghost of a laugh still painted in her reddened face.

His emotions were rather mixed at the moment. He felt bad for making her chase him, since she didn't seem to run enough, if her reaction was any indication. However, at the same time, he savored this picture of her beauty. He loved the fact he'd made her laugh, because he got the distinct feeling that she didn't do enough of that either. To add to the mix, there was also the feeling he almost always got when around her. It was a sort of shyness, tempered with comfort and pure joy, yet mingled with something else that he couldn't describe.

Then, Royal straightened up and walked over to him, "Can I 'ave my hat back, now dat ya made me chase ya for it?" She stopped only a few inches away from him. Though she was short, and rather girly, she could get really intimidating when she wanted to. She would just get this look that would make you re-think if you _seriously_ wanted to do what you were doing. That was the look she was giving him right now.

"I dunno, _Lydia_. I may wanna keep it," Dutchy gave her a mischievous grin, knowing that he may be pushing it with using her real name. He never really feared her look, but most of the time he would humor her.

"You'se already got a hat, _Simon_, so I don't really t'ink ya need anodder," She shot back. Her face was set, but her eyes let slip a bit of a playful twinkle. They hadn't joked like this in a long time, but he still knew just how to push her so she didn't get really angry.

"Alright, alright, I'se give up ya can have ya hat back. I ain't even gonna make ya tackle me fa it, like I do ta Squirt," He joked as he tossed the hat in the air, caught it, and placed it back on her head.

"T'ank ya kindly, good sir," She rolled her eyes at him. They just stood there for a second, looking at each other. To Dutchy, it felt like she was not only looking at him, but _through_ him, with those piercing gray eyes. As though realizing their proximity, she backed away quickly, "I'se gotta go get ready. I still gotta pick what I'se gonna wear!" She hurried in the door. He just stood outside for a minute, organizing his thoughts and trying to ignore the way his heart was racing.

"Aftahnoon, Dutchy. Ya know what just sent Royal runnin' in 'ere like she 'ad da Devil 'imself on 'er 'eels?" Kloppman asked him over the front desk as he walked in.

"Not a clue, Kloppman. All I did was steal 'er hat, den make 'er chase me ta get it," Dutchy acted innocent, while his words betrayed the opposite. The newsies' 'foster' father just chuckled a little and waved him on. Dutchy didn't know what was going through the older man's head at that moment, and didn't think he wanted to for that matter!

He continued upstairs, wondering why Royal was so worried with what she was wearing tonight. After all, it was only _him_ she was going with. There was no real reason to dress up. 'Unless,' he thought, 'there's someone else she wants ta impress.' He didn't know why, but that thought made his spirits sink a little.

When he got into the bunkroom, he saw exactly what he expected. The boys, though not as frantic as the girls must be, were trying to put together the best looking outfits they had. The usual good-natured ribbing was being flung around, as were a few requests.

"'Ey Race! Can I'se borrow ya white shirt?"

"Sorry, Skitts. I'm usin' it tanight,"

"Crutchy! Wanna trade vests?"

"Shoar t'ing, Jack!"

Dutchy just chuckled slightly, then moved toward the washroom. He was making sure his hair was lying flat when Specs appeared next to him.

"'Ey Dutch. Sorry 'bout leavin' you'se an' Royal. Didn't even realize it," Specs apologized. Dutchy waved it off.

"Dat's okay. We'se didn't mind. We spent some time catchin' up," The older boy replied, fixing his glasses and giving Specs a grin to show all was forgiven.

"So, what'cha fixin' yaself up fa? Ya act'ally takin' a goil tanight?" The dark-haired boy joked. The answer was given half an ear by many of the boys in the room. They knew it was only a joke, so a positive answer wasn't likely.

"Uh, act'ally… I am," Most of the activity in the room stopped and attention turned to them. Specs' jaw practically hit the floor.

"_Who_?!" He asked, his brown eyes wide as saucers.

"Royal. She didn't 'ave anyone ta take 'er, and neider of us wanted ta play 'third wheel' ta you and Crash, so… I agreed ta be 'er escort," Dutchy shrugged. His explanation was mostly to Specs, but he knew the other boys were listening. His best friend smiled at him and shrugged. Many of the others (i.e., Race, Mush, Jack, etc.) just congratulated him on finally having a date.

However, a few of the boys started ribbing him, joking about the rumors about Royal's morals and Dutchy's inexperience with girls. The blond newsie went over to the knot that was the most vocal and glared until they quieted.

"Nevah," Dutchy stated slowly and quietly, though with no less fury, "Say t'ings like dat 'bout a goil 'round me evah again." His blue eyes flashed with a quiet, smoldering anger. The previously vocal boys were wary. They'd never seen Dutchy really get mad before. He'd always been rather easy-going. Now, he was actually rather scary.

The rest of the time he spent getting ready was silent, except for the few responses thrown to his friends when they asked about borrowing things. When he found himself presentable (which was sooner than some of the others, but later than he was used to), he went downstairs to await the girls' arrival, like the few boys who'd beaten him there. The other boys joined them not long after, leaving only the girls to come down. Even David, Sarah, and Les had showed up before the girls. Jack stood with Sarah, not intending to leave without his fellow newsies.

The first few girls trickled out and joined the group of boys. Then, Squirt came downstairs. She hurried over to greet David, then looked at Mush and Race.

"Mel an' Jokah should be out soon. Tryin' ta help some 'a da odder goils get ready," She told them, before turning to her brother and his best friend, "Royal was helpin' Crash, last time I'se saw dem. Dey both look real nice. Ya gonna like it." She gave Dutchy a hug, then went back to talk to David.

Sure enough, then next ones out the door were Joker and Melody. Mel went right over to Mush, who gave a small peck on the lips in way of greeting. Joker went most of the way, then paused. Race held his arms out to her. She ran into his waiting arms and he placed a soft kiss on top of her head.

Dutchy just watched all this with a smile on his face. Then, Specs elbowed him in the side. The older boy turned to look at the door at the top of the stairs.

There, stood a girl he realized to be Crash. She had on a cream-colored dress that made her look very pretty. Her hair was down, and her hat was gone. Slowly, she moved down the stairs, trying desperately to not fall. Specs moved past his best friend to wait at the bottom of the stairs for her, just in case. Dutchy watched them together and broke into a grin. It was just so right, that they should be together. They looked slightly awkward, yet perfectly suited.

Dutchy, the only one of his friends who was still waiting, looked up to find Royal at the top of the stairs, also watching their best friends. She looked wonderful, as always. As simple as her pale purple dress may have been, it still heightened her normal level of beauty. She turned to look for him and met his gaze. She smiled, and began her own descent. Specs and Crash had moved away, so Dutchy took the spot at the foot of the stairs. Her hair fell in soft waves around her face, accentuating her large eyes and full lips.

"Ya look beautiful," The praise slipped out before Dutchy could catch it as she reached him. They both blushed. He held his arm out for her and Royal took it.

"You don't look so bad yaself," She replied. The room was milling with activity, now. In the distraction of Crash and Royal's entrances, he hadn't noticed that most of the girls had come downstairs. Everyone was getting ready to leave.

"Well, shall we?" Dutchy made a dramatic sweep of a bow as he gestured towards the door. She giggled.  
"Let's go," Royal agreed. They exited the lodging house in the same group as Specs, Crash, Race, and Joker. The non-couple spent most of the way there talking. Dutchy noticed that her eyes only revealed just so much emotion, that it seemed like she was holding back.

When they reached Medda's, people were clustering together, waiting for the music to start. It was a time for the newsies to get together and hang out with friends from different boroughs. Already Jack, Sarah, Spot, Dreamer, David, and Squirt were at a table in the front, laughing and talking. Boots, Les, Snipeshooter, and some of the other younger newsies from Queens and Harlem were gathered together, probably planning a marbles tournament for when the older ones were dancing. Everywhere, you could see a mix of familiar faces and various different ones. This table had Manhattan, Midtown, and Harlem; that one had the Battery, Brooklyn, and the Bronx. It wouldn't seem like the newsies would have so many cross-borough loyalties, but they sure did.

Dutchy, Royal, Crash, and Specs quickly found an empty table towards the outskirts of the room and made a beeline for it. The boys pulled out chairs for Royal and Crash, then took seats themselves. All around them, their fellow newsies were laughing and talking, so much so that you could barely hear yourself think. The four best friends smiled at each other. The smiles, for no apparent reason, turned into chuckles, and then laughter that added to the din. From a table in the front, Squirt turned towards the sound of her brother's laughter and smiled. Something told her she'd finally see him be truly happy.

Only a few minutes later, the music started and Medda came on stage. As she started the first rousing number, some of the more light-footed newsies began to dance with Medda and, for some of them, their girls. Many were singing along, as it was the usual "High Times, Hard Times". Dutchy was singing along softly, watching Race capering about with Joker, who used to rarely dance at these get-togethers. Royal was watching him, a curious look on her face.

She was wondering why he really agreed to bring her. He himself admitted that he wasn't a casual dater. Did that mean that he really liked her? Or was this really just because he didn't want to feel like the only third wheel with Crash and Specs? She was confusing herself. She leaned over to him and caught him unawares by whispering to him.

"Ya wanna dance? Or are we'se gonna be sitting 'ere all night?" Dutchy jumped a little, not used to hearing her so close to him. He turned to her and grinned.

"Well, dat wouldn't be much fun, now would it?" He stood up and held out a hand to her. She took it and off they danced. Dutchy, though he never really joined in the dancing at Irving Hall much, was still quite good and Royal had to make sure she was keeping up. She noticed a spark in his blue eyes, one of laughter and fun, which wasn't always there, even when he acted happy. What she didn't notice was that a similar spark was in her own eyes, which he saw and was happy to think that he might have put there.

Squirt was watching her brother as he danced with his date. Sure enough, he was looking much happier than normal. Being alone with Royal was good for him. They looked good together, too. She relaxed a bit more around him, while he was more of himself around her. She knew Dutchy liked Royal. There were some things he couldn't hide from his sister, no matter how hard he tried, and that was one of them. The only thing she didn't know, the thing that would determine this couple, was whether or not Royal liked him. She was almost always guarded, and never allowed anyone too far in. It seemed, though, that this was changing. Slowly, Dutchy appeared to be gaining more and more access, even if he didn't really know it.

The next song that Medda sang, Dutchy and Royal decided to sit out, while many of their other friends took to the floor, including Crash and Specs. Now left by themselves, they lapsed into a silence. He observed her from the corner of his eye, truly taking in her beauty, and reveling in the fact that, for tonight at least, she was his.

She watched their friends and became lost in thought. She wasn't a fool. She knew what the common opinion of her was. She'd never really stayed in a relationship for too long. Would she change her ways? Would she actually stay someone's girl? Was she getting ahead of herself? Did Dutchy even think of her that way? Or did he see her as merely a best friend, almost a sister? Did she want him to think of her that way? Was she actually, for once… shy? Nervous? To a point, scared? She felt like Crash must've before heading downstairs last night. This was a brand new feeling to her, this sudden shyness. Why now? Why with Dutchy? Was it just because she'd known him for so long? Or was it because this could be a much more serious attraction than she'd encountered before?

Royal was startled out of her thoughts by the appearance of Crash and Squirt. The latter had come to claim a dance with her brother, while the former was merely taking a rest as Specs danced with Medda, like the boys were known to do occasionally. Dutchy looked at Royal, who merely gestured towards Squirt with a smile and fell back into her ruminations.

Crash, who had caught sight of her best friend's contemplative expression, decided to find out what was up, "Royal, ya okay? Ya seem a little dazed."

"Yeah, I'm foine. I'se just thinkin' a bit," The elder girl insisted absent-mindedly, her grey eyes clouded in thought.

"Anyt'in' I can 'elp ya wit?" Crash asked, determined to break her friend from her reverie. No one should be so lost in thought at a function where they were supposed to be light-hearted for once.

At first, Royal was about to wave off the offer, since this was the type of thing that Crash was least experienced in. Except… Crash seemed to have found this very thing. Maybe accepting her friend's help wasn't as farfetched an idea as it seemed.

"I'se just really confused. All dese questions keep chasin' each odder 'round my head. Do I like 'im? Does 'e like me? If we do get togedda, am I act'ally gonna stick wit 'im, unlike what I usually do? Am I really good enough fa 'im? I just… dunno what's goin' on wit me right now," Royal confided, placing her head in her hands. Crash smiled gently at her friend and placed a hand on her back.

"Royal, I t'ink ya know da ansas ta one 'a dose questions just as well, or better, den I do. Yes, 'e likes ya. I'se surprised ya 'aven't noticed it before," Crash paused for a second, "As ta da odders, only you can ansa dem." The younger girl trailed off with a meaningful look as the song ended and both Dutchy and Specs headed back to the table. As a slower song began, Dutchy took Royal's hand and led her out onto the floor.

Slowly, they, like some of the others, began to sway along to the rhythm of the song. It felt perfect. She had never really felt as safe as she did in his arms. He loved the feeling it gave him to hold her close as they swayed. Gently, as the song progressed, her head made its way onto his shoulder. He pulled her closer, never wanting the song to end.

Holding her in his arms, he realized that he just… _knew_. From the way she seemed to cling to him right now, from the fact that her eyes were bright and clear and actually expressing the emotions she was feeling, it became clear to him.

At that same moment, Royal became completely conscious of the answers to every question that had been racing through her mind before, all of them revealed in the way he held her, and the way he gazed at her. She _did_ like him, perhaps even more than like. This would be much different from every other relationship she'd had. She wouldn't leave Dutchy unless some outer force prevented them from being together. As to her being good enough for him… well, she'd never deserve him, but, from the expression he held as they danced, he didn't care.

Time seemed to move in slow motion from then on. Her head lifted from his shoulder at what must have been a millimeter per minute. At the same speed, his head moved towards her. It felt like an eternity passed before their lips finally met.

Suddenly, Royal felt like she was floating. Sure, she'd been kissed plenty of times, but not like this. Not by the one guy who she knew had to be it. If anything, her reaction must have confirmed that. He was the one she was meant for, and he'd been right in front of her for nine years.

To Dutchy, it was heavenly. He was finally sharing his first kiss with the girl who had been right beside him for nine years. All of the other newsies seemed to disappear and it was just him and Royal, sharing this sweet, gentle, _loving_ kiss. It was new, and confusing and… just… _right_.

After what seemed to be forever, they broke apart. The song was over, people were heading back to their tables, but Dutchy and Royal didn't move. They stared into each other's eyes, grey meeting blue, and everything they had to say was spoken in that gaze. Suddenly, from the seriousness of the moment broke grins of happiness. Royal giggled as Dutchy lifted her light frame off the ground and spun her around, a laugh as clear and bright as a bell bursting forth.

And, in that moment, everyone knew they had found that moment of pure, perfect happiness.

A/n2: Wow… three months to finish this. Sorry, but Dutchy was proving extremely difficult for me to write. As soon as I'd get an idea, he wouldn't agree, so this is the final compromise.

Dutchy (from over in the corner): Sorry!

Me (glares at him, then turns back to the readers): Not to mention, it is _not_ as easy being a Performing Arts Major as many people would have you believe. First, there's the shows themselves. Then, there's the post-show slump. Then, there's the papers and homework you have to make up if you can because you missed them during show season, and/or the extra credit you have to do to make up for the papers/homework that _can't_ be made-up. Then, there's exams to study for in normal classes, lines to memorize for acting finals, songs to memorize for music finals and (if you're in dance classes, which I wasn't this semester) choreography to master for dance finals. After all of _that,_ there's saying goodbye to all your friends that are leaving after graduation. Yikes.

Oh well, I apologize sooooo much for this, guys. I hope you haven't lost interest in this! If you have, then I will know by the lack of reviews and will move on to other things (Some of the other reasons for my more recent neglect can be blamed on my newfound obsessions with 27 Dresses and National Treasure, specifically Riley Poole from the latter). Otherwise, review and let me know if you still want me to post the promised Kid Blink one shot (I promised that a few stories ago) and the Skittery one-shot that was just suggested by Mickeygee's friend.

Also, in the time span since Specs' Story was posted, I've also written a future-fic for Joker and Race, just because Race refused to leave me alone unless I did it, and he got very annoying while I was trying to write Dutchy. So, let me know if you want me to post that one, too. Carry the Banner! (Oh, and review, too!)


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